


Winner Takes All

by sendgays



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Eventual Romance, M/M, Planet Vegeta AU, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendgays/pseuds/sendgays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 25 years as a bachelor, King Vegeta has decided his son has been single long enough and holds a tournament to determine who will be the mate of Prince Vegeta. Too bad that the man who wins didn't realize what he was fighting for! Will they be able to reconcile or end up killing each other? A/U, Yaoi, Vegeta/Kakarot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: A bad "over 9000" joke, creepy Nappa
> 
> Just a thanks to my beta, Cluen for always putting up with my shenanigans.

Clutching a crumpled piece of paper tightly in his fist, Prince Vegeta strode angrily through the hallway leading to his father’s office. Unable to control his tail when he became this irritated, it lashed like a whip behind him. The few people he passed in the hall quickly darted out of the way when they saw him coming. Glancing down at the paper again, he ground his teeth in rage. Reaching his destination, he shoved the heavy door open without ceremony and entered the room.

“What the fuck is this?” he growled as he threw the wad of paper at his father.

King Vegeta fixed his son with an icy stare, “You had twenty-five years to do things your way. Now we will do them my way.”

“And if I refuse?” the young Vegeta hissed, folding his arms over his chest and holding his chin high in defiance.

“Then I’m sure Tarble will be glad to hear he will be the next to inherit the throne,” the King stated with a slightly raised eyebrow. He turned back to paperwork, signaling that the conversation was done.

Gritting his teeth, the fiery Prince clenched his gloved-hands into fists and whirled towards the exit, his red cape billowing behind him. ‘ _There’s no fucking way I’m going to let that weakling take the throne from me. I will play along with this game, for now.’_ Vegeta’s mind raced at all the different scenarios that could happen and exit strategies for each. He would find a way to outwit his father; he was a tactical genius after all. No matter what happened, Vegeta would adapt and find a way to benefit. Lips curling into a prideful smirk, he changed course to his private training facility.

“Vegeta, I just heard the news,” a brash voice boomed behind him.

The Prince’s whole body visibly stiffened. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the man approaching. He turned to see a broad chest covered, thankfully, by black Saiyan armor. Looking up with a slight curl of his lip, he saw the bald head of the strongest General he had. Vegeta didn’t respond to him, instead letting his gaze of thinly-veiled disgust do the talking for him.

“I plan on entering and winning,” he man continued, not the least bit cowed by the glare he was receiving.

Vegeta’s eyes widened in a split-second of horror, and then quickly narrowed again—hiding all other emotions behind his anger. He wondered how angry his father would be if he blasted this oversized brute right now. The Prince knew something like this would happen. ‘ _Fucking, Nappa! There’s no way I can allow him to win!’_ He wasn’t exactly sure how he could keep the man from winning yet. Maybe arrange for him to be off-planet that day? Break his legs? Have him assassinated? The large man was grinning eerily at him, which only triggered an increase in his anger.

“You can save your excitement for the big day, Vegeta. I’ll certainly be looking forward to it,” the mountain of a Saiyan flashed an oily grin and walked past Vegeta.

Shuddering in revulsion, Vegeta watched him go until he was out of sight. How had that idiot heard so quickly? He had only learned of the King’s plans this morning when a servant had brought the announcement decree with the Prince’s breakfast. Cursing under his breath, Vegeta ran down the hallway until he reached a balcony exit. Stepping out into the cool morning air, he peered down at the lush palace grounds beneath him.

He didn’t immediately notice anything, so he jumped over the edge of the balcony railing and flew toward the training arena for the royal guards. As he drew near, he could make out several papers fluttering by the entranceway to the large amphitheater. Running over to the target of his ire, he snatched one of the papers up and read it again.

“ _By order of our noble King Vegeta, a tournament open to all citizens of Planet Vegeta will be held on the twenty-fourth of Standa at 08:00. The victor, having proven themselves the strongest Saiyan on the planet, will become the betrothed mate of our Prince Vegeta.”_

__The rest of the text blurred as the aura of power swirled around Vegeta. An arranged mate. This was what the Prince was reduced to. Since the day that Vegeta had passed into manhood, the King had been urging him to find a mate and produce an heir. The Prince had steadfastly refused. Feeling that the bond of a mate would only weaken him, Vegeta had isolated himself from all potential suitors.There had certainly been no shortage of them either: many powerful, attractive, and influential hopefuls had stepped forward only to be hastily denied in turn.

Now a small nagging voice in his mind told Vegeta that he should have just picked one of them that he could have easily controlled instead of leaving it to chance. He guessed that these flyers were covering the planet by now, not that anyone outside the Elite had a chance. His father’s illusion of fairness, Vegeta assumed. And worst of all, Nappa had declared himself as a participant already. A shiver of panic ran down Vegeta’s spine and he quickly wrapped his tail around his waist for comfort.

Nappa had been making passes at the Prince for years now, ever since he had reached maturity actually. It had started with small hints of attraction, but as the years went on, the older man had become more and more aggressive with his attention. But even so it had never been this outright before. Vegeta took any excuse to avoid the man when he could, but Nappa’s strength was well-known and if he won the tournament then it would signal the start of Vegeta’s worst nightmare. The large Saiyan was boorish, hot-tempered, and seemingly only interested in making Vegeta his personal sex toy. Just the thought of being pinned under the hulking man was enough to make his skin crawl.

Cursing his father, Vegeta vowed that he would take Nappa off-world the first chance he got and kill the older Saiyan if he won. No matter how strong he was, Vegeta was still the more powerful of the two. Just because he was allowing his father to continue with this plan, didn’t mean he would sit idly by and accept the results. _‘But why stop at just Nappa?_ ’ Vegeta though with a cruel smirk. He could kill whoever won the contest if they displeased him. Or his father. A dark chuckle escaped his lips at the idea. With the King out of the way, there didn’t even need to be a tournament, mate, or heir yet. The younger Vegeta would become King and his future secured.

Looking down at the pristine, white gloves on his hands, he decided against it. He had too much pride to take the throne that way. Other than the current situation, he didn’t harbor any ill-will towards his father either. Even though Vegeta had already surpassed the King in power, he still respected the man that had trained him and taught him military strategy. To remove him from power in cold blood was beneath the Prince. _‘He did let me go this long without forcing me to take a mate after all,’_ Vegeta thought with a roll of his eyes.

Checking the date of the tournament again, he frowned that it was only a week away. That didn’t give the Prince much time if he wanted to increase his training. Vegeta wanted to be able to easily handle any threat to his autonomy and that meant being the strongest and sharpest Saiyan on the planet. Even if in his mind he already was the strongest and sharpest, he knew he would not remain that way if he slacked even the slightest amount. Doubling back in the direction he had come from, Vegeta decided to completely immerse himself in training until the dreaded day arrived. His only thoughts being that there had better be enough Saibamen to keep up with him.

XXXXX

 The days of training passed successfully and Vegeta felt stronger after the grueling conditions he put himself through. It wasn’t a big leap forward, but it was more than he had before and that was what mattered most. The Prince knew even the tiniest difference in power could become an ocean of difference if the fight dragged on long enough. The tournament would be tomorrow morning and he was as ready as he could be.

Stepping into his shower, he was surprised he felt so at peace. Tomorrow all the hopeful Saiyans would be fighting over him and one would become his betrothed. A slight smile tugged at his lips, it did amuse Vegeta that this was the way his father picked a mate for him. The King knew his son wouldn’t accept someone weak at his side. King Vegeta had opted for beauty over brawn in his own mate, but the Prince needed someone who could keep up with him, needed a challenge. He was actually starting to become quite curious as to what would happen in the morning.

If there was a Saiyan stronger than Nappa, he would very much like to meet this person. The smile left his lips. It was highly unlikely anyone would best the towering beast, but perhaps someone had been training to beat him. There were other strong Elites, of course. It was not impossible that one of them could have surpassed Nappa during their missions. Vegeta sighed, there was nothing he could do but wait. Turning off the hot water, he quickly dried himself and slipped in between the silk sheets of his enormous bed. Willing himself to sleep, he sent one last silent prayer out to whatever god may be listening: ‘ _Anyone but Nappa.’_

 XXXXX

Staring at the back of his eyelids, Vegeta wondered how long he could put off the inevitable. He could already feel the warmth of sunshine creeping across his face, indicating that it was time to get up. If he wasn’t up soon, there would be a small knock at the door, followed by some servant coming in and apologizing for waking him. Groaning, he tossed the blood-red covers off his naked body and opened his eyes. Better to wake on his own terms, rather than have to deal with some boot-licking weakling. Stretching his muscled arms high over his head, he arched his back and neck, feeling the small pop of bones resettling after his slumber. Then he reached down to touch his toes, his nose touching his knees easily. Finally standing back up straight, he walked to his dresser and flung it open.

Deciding to dress the part today, he pulled out his finest ceremonial armor. It was a blue spandex suit with full legs and long sleeves, donned with golden gloves and boots rather than his usual white. His chest piece was mostly white, with golden accents in between the panels and golden shoulder pieces, and the red royal crest prominently featured on the left side of his chest. The last piece was the plush velvet cape, golden on top with red on the reverse side. Smirking at his reflection in the mirror, he knew he looked good no matter what he wore, but today was a day to stand out.

Opening the door to his room, he found a servant patiently waiting outside. The diminutive woman stated that the King had gone ahead to the battle arena and would be waiting for the Prince there. Only nodding in return, Vegeta strolled off at a casual pace towards the proving grounds.

“Arena” seemed too little a word for the massive construction. Saiyans loved to watch fights, almost as much as participating in them. To that end, this huge coliseum was the result. In the center was a wide, round platform that was served as the battle ring. Surrounding it were rows upon rows of benches in an open stadium. All types of exhibition matches were held here, not only with Saiyans, but also with strong aliens they had encountered and captured. The stadium was absolutely buzzing today and as large as it was, it still could not contain all who had shown up for the momentous occasion. Every seat was filled and the walls were covered with Saiyans perching themselves there in order to get a view.

As he walked to the private balcony where his father would be waiting, Vegeta wondered how so many of his race were gathered in one place without killing each other. Pushing aside the heavy door, he walked over to stand next to the King.

The ruler eyed his son with curiosity, “I was beginning to think I would have to call Tarble home.”

Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms over his pristine armor. “Not likely. Let’s get this over with.”

“Getting impatient to meet your new mate?” the King chuckled at his son’s discomfort. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to see them soon. They are having the proving matches now and the real tournament will begin shortly after that,” he explained.

Sitting down in an oversized chair, Vegeta let out a huff at having to wait even longer. ‘ _Why didn’t they have these damn proving matches yesterday so that we could be on with it?’_ All the calm he was feeling earlier had begun to melt away now that events were in motion. His knee began to bounce on its own accord and he struggled to stop it, hating to show any signs of unease. His guts were twisting at images of Nappa trying to hold him close and kiss him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. There was no need to panic yet, what if Nappa didn’t even make it past these preliminaries? He forced himself to stay calm and open his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his father looking at him with curiosity. Straightening up in his chair, he would look the part of regal Prince—not some nervous bride on her wedding night. “How many participants?” he asked calmly, not turning to look at the King.

“I believe it was over nine thousand,” King Vegeta stated while stroking his goatee in thought. “Personally, I’m offended more didn’t come forward. But there will be only eight in the actual competition.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened in shock at the number of entries. ‘ _Nine thousand?! Good fuck it will take a week just to get through the elimination rounds! That has to be over half of the fucking planet!’_ He tapped his fingertips against the arm rest of his chair in a rhythm of annoyance. Would he really be forced to sit here and do nothing for however long it took to whittle it down to the best eight? A soft growl rumbled in his throat at the thought of sitting still that long for anything besides space travel—and even then he got to sleep through that!

King Vegeta clapped a hand on the Prince’s shoulder and laughed. “Relax, you just have to wave at the crowd a few times for the opening part. After that you are free to wander around until the actual bouts begin.”

Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief at not being captive here. He wondered if he should go take a look at the fighters. Glancing down at the empty ring however, it occurred to him that he didn’t even know where they were. There wasn’t anywhere in the coliseum large enough to hold that many fighters. They had to be somewhere else outside, and far enough away as to not interfere with the gathered spectators. He scratched the idea off his list; he was only really interested in the fate of one fighter anyway. Doing some quick mental calculations, he felt like he had a solid five days at least before anything officially began. With nothing better to do, he decided he would go back to his training after whatever opening ceremony they were holding was over.                                          

Finally a tall, lanky Saiyan, with black hair flowing down to his shoulders, strode into the center of the ring and raised his hands. Pushing a few buttons on his scouter in order for it to work like a microphone, he waited for the crowd to quiet down before speaking.

“Welcome all to this unprecedented event! With as many fighters as we have gathered together, it is sure to be an amazing display of power!” his deep voice boomed across the stadium.

King Vegeta nodded to his son and they both rose to stand at the edge of the balcony, observing the throng of spectators with a regal air.

“Out of the many participants, only eight will compete on this stage for a chance to become the mate of our powerful Prince Vegeta!” the tall Saiyan announced, pointing at the royals.

Vegeta smirked down on the crowd as they cheered and waved at him. Giving a small nod and a slight wave, he felt that he had fulfilled his obligations and crossed his arms again. The announcer droned on about the rules and how the matches were to be decided, but Vegeta had already stopped paying attention. None of this pomp interested him; actually none of it truly interested him except the last battle. The one that would decide his mate was the only fight worth watching in his opinion.

Turning to leave, he felt his father’s strong grip on his shoulder. “The matches should begin around noon, don’t be late,” King Vegeta said with a smirk.

“How could they eliminate that many people so quickly?” Vegeta asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion. For nine thousand people to fight one on one would take time no matter how many different matches were being held simultaneously.

“Didn’t you pay attention? The elimination rounds are being held as melees. The groups will get smaller and smaller until the last sixteen standing advance to the next round. Then those will be one-on-one matches to determine the top eight,” the King said with a devilish grin. “I was going to go see the spectacle myself.”

Pursing his lips, Vegeta thought about going to see it as well. The idea of watching a giant free-for-all did seem amusing. The tip of his tail twitched in excitement and part of the Prince wished he could partake in the fights. Testing himself against all comers in a no-bars-held contest sounded exhilarating! But obviously he couldn’t fight alongside them if he was the reason they were fighting. He deflated a little at the realization and decided not to go. Watching would be too disappointing if he couldn’t let his own primal side loose.    

Without answering, Vegeta watched his father leave the private box. Once alone, he slumped back into his plush chair and crossed his arms. His father had said he was free to go, but there was nothing for him to do except wait. Waving at a servant who was practically hidden in the far corner, he ordered for some food to be brought up. He wasn’t sure how much he could actually eat with the anxiousness settling in his stomach, but he needed to be at full strength today. Fighting while hungry was like fighting with a hand tied behind your back for a Saiyan.

When the food arrived, Vegeta tried to eat as slowly as possible in order to kill more time. Every so often, the lanky announcer would reappear at the stage and give updates on how the preliminaries were going. They were down to seven thousand, five thousand, three thousand, and so on. Days like this were the worst for being a Prince. He wanted to leave and go back to his training; but with the small window of time he had left, he would be barely finishing his warm-up when the matches started. So he was forced to sit and strive to look regal, and not completely pissed off with the world.

Hours of boredom passed and the King returned with a grin on his face.

“Vegeta, I think you will be pleased. There are some fine specimens amongst the contestants,” the King leered.

Sitting up in his chair, Vegeta bit his lip to keep from asking about Nappa. He knew the moving mountain had to have passed the first rounds. He also didn’t want to show his dread in front of his father. So instead he let out a little grunt and kept his eyes focused on the ring.

“It won’t be long now. They are going to get a short rest and a meal, then start the fights. How are you feeling?” King Vegeta pressed him.

“Fine,” retorted the Prince. He was far from fine, but complaining now would not help the situation. Again he mentally cursed himself for not taking a mate prior to this point. He should have followed his father’s lead: taking a beautiful woman, who posed no threat to him, and letting her produce offspring for him. Now he was going to be stuck with an unattractive idiot who craved mindless destruction and depraved sex. Remembering his plan to eliminate Nappa if need be though, a smile tugged at the corner of his lip. ‘ _Not stuck for long.’_

“Don’t sulk like a child, Vegeta. You’re twenty-five years old now. It’s past time for you to have taken a mate. We need to ensure our bloodline carries on,” the King lectured him with a hint of disapproval. “You can’t stay alone forever, and we don’t need bastard children muddying up the succession.”

Rolling his eyes at the thought of having secret children, Vegeta didn’t comment on his father’s words. Instead he just sat straighter and tried to put on an uninterested air. King Vegeta frowned, but left him alone. They passed the rest of the wait in silence; it felt like an eternity until the announcer reappeared and beckoned for everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, thank you for your patience, the matches are about to start! First we will bring out the final eight fighters and congratulate them on getting this far!” he shouted while beckoning the competitors on to the stage.

Vegeta looked them over in mild interest. Of course Nappa stood head and shoulders above the others and was easily picked out of the lineup. There were four other males present and three females. Truth be told, the Prince preferred a woman to win only for the ease of producing heirs. The female Saiyans were all Elite-class fighters judging by their armor. There was a tall one with intense eyes and her hair piled into a bun on her head; one with a cocky grin and her hair shaved on the sides leaving only a wild spiked mess on top; and the last one with a medium length hair cut and a large scar crossing her cheeks and nose. Beside them stood the oaf Nappa, practically dwarfing even the tallest of them. Next to Nappa were the remaining men: a burly looking man with a mustache and bowl cut; a well-muscled one with a crew cut; a man with a thin frame and hair reaching all the way down his back to his waist; and the last one had hair spiked in all different directions and a grin stretched across his whole face.

Vegeta stared at the last man with an arched eyebrow. The man was clearly a third-class warrior, how had he made into the final round when everyone else was Elites? He frowned in wonderment, not wanting to ask his father and seem interested all of a sudden. Based on the difference in power levels, Vegeta could only conclude that he had waited out all the battle royales: letting the much stronger opponents tire each other out and then coming in at the last second to win. ‘ _But he had to have beat someone in the one-on-one matches as well_ ,’ Vegeta mused. But again that was easily solved: he must have had a partner in the other battles. Then they happened to be pitted against each other and this one came out on top.

Part of Vegeta was amused by the cunning plan. A mate that was a good strategist might actually come in handy one day, even if he wasn’t that powerful. Seeing how he was destined to lose against the others though, Vegeta wondered if he might offer him a position in his personal counsel. It took serious confidence to compete against that many stronger opponents and careful planning to avoid making any errors on the battlefield in order to progress to this round. Smirking at the idea that at least something good had come of this ridiculous tournament, Vegeta’s mood was visibly lifted.

He was summoned out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder and his father motioning him to acknowledge the fighters. Standing slowly from his chair and walking to the edge of the balcony, he peered down at the warriors for a few seconds before bringing a fist to his chest and bowing his head ever so slightly. The contestants answered by dropping to their left knee and bowing their heads. Vegeta noticed that the third-class male was noticeably slower than the others to return his salute. ‘ _Hn, he would challenge me so brazenly in front of all these witnesses?’_ Vegeta chuckled to himself; this low class man was getting more interesting by the second. The moment of satisfaction was ruined however, when he caught a glimpse of Nappa smirking up at him. Turning quickly from the balcony, he resumed his seat next to the King. The announcer then droned on more about the rules of the fight and the order in which they would face off.

“Which one caught your eye, Vegeta?” the King asked with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

“Tch, it doesn’t matter to me as long as they can hold their own in a fight,” Vegeta answered calmly, not allowing his father to rile him up any further.

“If you say so, my son,” the King snickered under his breath.

The first match was beginning and Vegeta was thankful for the distraction. It was between the scarred female and the feminine-looking male. Neither of which particularly interested Vegeta, but he pretended to pay attention to the match anyway. It wouldn’t look good for the trophy to seem bored. He reminded himself that these would be his loyal subjects one day and they were some of the strongest on the planet. Surely that warranted a little attention from the Prince.

They both seemed to be strong and fought well against each other. ‘ _They’re too evenly matched, this could take forever,’_ Vegeta thought while trying to look stoic. However even in strength they were, the woman seemed a lot more experience in battle. The male was starting to get winded and made a tiny mistake in his guard that allowed the female to knock him unconscious. Vegeta gave a small clap to the victor and then crossed his arms again. ‘ _Only six more to go,’_ he choked back a groan of disappointment.

When the fighters of the second match were announced, Vegeta’s blood almost froze. It was to be Nappa versus the female contestant that had her hair pulled into a bun. He knew that it was inevitable, but each time Nappa fought only brought him closer to winning the whole tournament. And closer to being Vegeta’s proclaimed mate. Letting out a shaky breath, he was glad the hulking Saiyan was battling another Elite and not the Third-class man. At least the woman had a fighting chance; the man would probably be killed in one hit from Nappa. The fights were to be purely physical; no ki techniques or blasts allowed. Even with the restrictions though, Nappa was a force to be reckoned with.

Vegeta watched as the stern-looking woman battled the huge Nappa fiercely. She had more speed, but instead of giving her an advantage, it merely helped her fight at his same level. ‘ _Make him angry! He’s sloppy when he’s angry!’_ Vegeta wanted to scream at her. He wanted to shoot a ki blast at Nappa’s head or do anything that would turn the fight in her favor. Realizing that he was griping the armrests of his chair tight enough to leave dents, Vegeta folded them over his chest hastily.

“Do you favor the woman, Vegeta?” the King asked, having noticed the Prince’s reaction. “I didn’t realize she was your type.”

“At this moment, anyone other than Nappa is my type,” Vegeta snarled lowly, even as he was trying to look calm.

“Oh? I thought there had been something between you two,” King Vegeta leaned back in his chair and frowned as if deep in thought.

“Never,” Vegeta was able to say with only the smallest trace of anger in his voice now.

“The winner hasn’t been decided yet,” the King said with an almost reassuring tone.

Vegeta looked at him in astonishment and nodded in reply. Was this compassion from his father? He felt a little guilty for thinking of killing the King earlier, even if he would have never followed through with it. His father was often strict, but never unfair, and Vegeta cherished rare moments like this where the King’s warmth shone through in his words. The Prince recomposed himself in his chair. His father was right, the winner was not yet decided and Nappa was only in the first round. Nothing was certain yet.

Nothing except for that fact that Nappa had just swatted the woman hard to the arena floor, a sickening thud signaling that she would have a hard time recovering from the blow. She was trying to sit up, but even that seemed a struggle. Vegeta could see Nappa grinning in the sky above her and already knew what was coming next. The hulking Saiyan didn’t stop until his enemy was dead, which served well in their conquest of other planets, but was not an ideal trait in a sparring partner.

Scowling as he watched the bulky Saiyan quickly plummet from the sky, driving his knee into the downed woman’s stomach as he landed on top of her. Vegeta decided it was lucky she had passed out from the blow, as the blood leaking from her mouth indicated that she’d be in a medical tank for at least a week. Vegeta’s eye twitched at the sight of Nappa’s pompous display of victory, wishing he could blast the idiot right now. Instead he had to be content to hope that someone else did to Nappa what the braggart had just done to the last contestant. It took all the princely strength in his body to applaud the winner.

The next bout was between two more of the unknown fighters to Vegeta. Glad that he could relax for a moment, he stared at the ring, glassy eyed. Technically he was watching as the two blurs clashed with one and other. This one ended much more quickly to Vegeta’s surprise. He blinked to refocus on the contestants and saw that the mustachioed Saiyan had beaten the last female contestant. Vegeta applauded again, glad that it was over so quickly.

The last quarter-final match was announced, causing Vegeta to lean forward in his seat. Now he would finally get a chance to see the third class man in action. Wondering how long he could last against an Elite, Vegeta was extremely interested in this match. Not that he expected the lower class warrior to win, that would be ridiculous, but he did want to see what kind of strategy the man would employ against someone much stronger than himself in a one-to-one match. Not caring anymore if the King noticed his interest, Vegeta’s eyes were locked on the fighters in the center of the ring.

The third class man was standing with his arms at his sides, a determined grin look on his face, as he sized up his opponent. In fact, it was almost like the man was excited to be in the match, even though he clearly was outclassed—Vegeta mentally praised the man’s ability to put up a confident front. As soon as the signal for the start of the match was sounded, the Elite Saiyan rushed at full speed towards the man. _‘Probably wants to end the match quickly, not much honor in beating someone weaker than yourself.’_ The man with spiked hair stood calmly in place as his opponent bore down on him. Peering closely, Vegeta wrinkled his brow at the sight. Did the man want to die? He wasn’t even in a fighting stance!

The man with the short hair screamed out in anger at the supposed mocking and just flew at his challenger faster. It was just a blur, but at the very last second, the lower class fighter pivoted to the right and placed both his hands on the Elite’s back, pushing him forward and down. In the next second, the man who should have easily won was sprawled on the ground outside the ring. There were a few seconds of stunned silence from the crowd, then a deafening outpouring of cheers and laughter. No matter how badly one was beaten inside the ring, a ring-out was by far the most humiliating way for a Saiyan to lose. But somehow this low class nobody had just caused an Elite-level fighter to do just that.

Vegeta’s mouth hung open. Not only was it an extremely effective strategy for the man, since he didn’t have to fight head on, but it was also expertly timed so that the Elite didn’t have a chance to react and take flight before hitting the ground. The level of calculations that must have gone into the maneuver in order for it to work were staggering—something Vegeta would have expected from a hardened General, not a third class warrior. Applauding with a smirk, Vegeta watched closely as the man smiled at the crowd cheering him on. ‘ _I can’t wait to see his next match,’_ the Prince grinned and sat back in his chair _._ Things were getting more interesting.

“Ah, so he’s your type then, Vegeta?” the King asked with a chuckle.

“Tch, I only admire his tactical proficiency in advancing to the semi-final matches,” Vegeta retorted as he crossed his arms on his chest.

“Are you sure it was his _tactical proficiency_ that you were admiring?” King Vegeta asked, not missing the rare opportunity to tease his son in matters of love and lust.

Vegeta answered with a disgusted snort, and turned to stare at the wall. Glancing quickly out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the man left the platform. He wasn’t opposed to having a male mate, and the third class wasn’t unattractive. But that didn’t mean he was Vegeta’s “type”. The Prince of all Saiyans was above having a _type._ He heard his father snickering behind his back and he huffed again. ‘ _Ridiculous!’_

The match announcer reappeared in the center of the ring and notified them that there would be a short recess before the semi-finals started. Seeing the mood the King was in, Vegeta took the opportunity to leave the balcony and walk the private hallway that led to the outside. It felt good to stretch his legs after sitting all morning. Stepping into the afternoon sun, he held his hands high over his head, enjoying the feeling of the bones in his spine popping into place. He allowed himself the luxury of yawning and letting his tail hang freely behind his back. Grinning, Vegeta thought about the last match again.

That third class warrior had intrigued him beyond what he thought possible. Briefly entertaining the thought of going to meet the fighter now, he dismissed it quickly. Entering the area where the contestants were would mean seeing Nappa as well. If Nappa caught a hint that Vegeta was interested in the low rank soldier, then surely the giant Saiyan would break the man if they were in a match together. He had already performed overkill on his first opponent, who knew what Nappa would do to someone that he thought the Prince favored. No, for the man’s safety, Vegeta would keep his distance. Just thinking of Nappa suddenly made the Prince wary that the hulking Saiyan would appear, so he wandered back inside.        

“Vegeta.”

The Prince’s whole body tensed and he cursed his luck for being proven right. He could feel the man getting closer to him, until they were practically touching. He could feel the heat rolling off the body behind him and could smell the sweat and scent of the older man.

“Did you enjoy my fight, Vegeta? You know there was no way I would let that little bitch get her hands on you,” Nappa whispered into Vegeta’s ear, causing goose bumps to form on the perfect royal skin.

Vegeta growled lowly in his throat as warning, moving away from Nappa while also turning to face him. His hands clenched in anger at the gall of the general to seek him out in this restricted area.

“The winner hasn’t been decided yet,” Vegeta echoed his father’s words back to the man currently in front of him.

They didn’t seem to faze the older warrior in the slightest. Instead Nappa just let a loud laugh ring through the deserted hallways. “Don’t play dumb, your highness. Between the woman, the weakling, and the trash, who is it that will beat me? None of them even compare to my power,” he leaned down to be eye level with Vegeta, “Or my lust for you.” He let his wander over the lean figure of the Prince, licking his lips as if in anticipation of finally tasting what had long been off limits to him.

Fighting to keep his body from trembling in anger, lest Nappa confuse it for excitement or fear, Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t think you will have your way, Nappa, even if you do manage to win this tournament,” he warned, obsidian eyes narrowing.

Nappa leaned back and laughed again, “That’s why I like you, Vegeta, you always keep things interesting!” Continuing to cackle, Nappa turned away from the slightly shaking prince and walked back in the direction of the contestants waiting area.

Once the giant oaf was completely out of sight, Vegeta quit the struggle to control himself and punched the wall in frustration. ‘ _How dare he mock me! I will never allow myself to become mated to him, no matter what I have to do!’_ Punching the wall again, the concrete crumbled under his blow, leaving cracks spiraling outward from the new hole he had formed. Gritting his teeth, Vegeta cursed himself for allowing the other Saiyan to get him so on edge. He reminded himself that he was the Prince and that he had a plan, so there was no need to get worked up over the encounter with Nappa.

Exhaling a deep breath, he adjusted his gloves, straightened his armor, and held his head high as he walked back to the balcony where his father was waiting. Showing all outward signs of complete composure, he nodded politely at the King before taking his seat. Gazing out over the bustling crowd, he wondered how much longer the tournament would last. It was getting late in the afternoon already, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t stop until a winner was declared. He hoped it was true anyway; he wasn’t sure if he could undergo another day of this stress. There were only three fights left he reminded himself with a deep breath.

Before long, the first match started: Nappa versus the female with scars. Vegeta tried to concentrate on the fight, but with each blow that Nappa landed, he felt sicker and sicker. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be watching this, and he didn’t want Nappa to win. But the idiot had been right. Who out of the fighters could possibly beat him? The General was merely toying with his opponent at this point; dragging out the fight, probably in some twisted attempt to show off.

Longing to call off the tournament and choose for himself, Vegeta knew it was impossible. He bared his teeth. It wasn’t _impossible_ ; he was the goddamn Prince for fuck’s sake! But to do so would invite public humiliation from the whole planet onto himself and the King. And to lower his pride to that level was indeed impossible.

Nappa now had the struggling woman in a chokehold from behind, her slender legs kicking wildly at empty air, trying to break free. Grinning up at the private box, Nappa locked eyes briefly with the Prince—already declaring himself the winner with that taunting look. Eventually the female’s body failed her and her hands stopped clawing at the large arm holding her in the air, instead they fell loosely at her sides as she went completely limp. Dropping her to the floor carelessly, Nappa exited the stage with a cruel smirk.

“The one you favor is up next.”

The King’s voice was not loud, but it had the same startling effect on Vegeta as if it was a battle alarm. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts, that he had completely forgotten that his father was there. After recovering from the shock of the voice, his mind reeled to process what the voice had said. Grunting softly when the meaning came to him, Vegeta rolled his eyes at the notion.

“I do not favor him, Father. I merely think he possesses merits that would make him useful to me,” Vegeta stated matter-of-factly.

The King leaned over slightly in his chair, “That’s the definition of favoring him,” he whispered with slight chuckle.

Vegeta ground his teeth together and willed the pink tinge on his face to disappear. His father meant only to annoy him and it was working surprisingly well today since the Prince was already on edge. Seeing the two contestants enter the ring, he let his gaze linger on the third class male. The oddly spiked hair, pale skin, bare arms, legs hugged by black leggings, and green and black armor all combined into a rather pleasing form. Considering the fact that many third class Saiyans shared similar traits, this man was lucky enough to get the good ones.

This time the lower class man did take an actual fighting stance, probably knowing that there was no way to get the same trick to work twice. His muscular opponent grinned cockily and leaned his head side to side, bones popping with a loud crack. Sizing up his opponent with predatory eyes, the non-Elite sprang forward and landed a quick uppercut to the mustached combatant’s stomach. For a second the two paused in that pose, as if time had grinded to a halt. Then the third class male retracted his hand and stood up straight with a smile. The Elite stared straight ahead, unmoving for another second, before finally crumpling to the floor like a ragdoll.

Again the crowd burst into applause and cheers for the underdog, the deafening noise almost to the point of being overwhelming. Vegeta snapped his mouth shut and sat back in his chair, completely dumbfounded by what had just occurred. Not only did this warrior have strategy and speed, he also, somehow, had the power to knock out an Elite-level fighter in one blow. Vegeta heard his father clapping in the chair beside him and realized his own fists had been clenched in apprehension. Slowly uncurling his fingers, he joined in praising the warrior with his applause.

“Is he really a third class Saiyan?” Vegeta turned to inquire if the King had any information on the man.

The King only shrugged. “Looks like one, but fights like an Elite. Might be quite the catch, son,” he added with clap on the shoulder.

Prince Vegeta didn’t answer, still reeling from the shocking fight. How had this fighter managed to knock out someone far above his power level in one blow? Was it even possible for someone that low on the power scale to reach that level? Perhaps with enough zenkai power ups it was possible, but what had this man gone through to achieve that? Third class warriors weren’t given the level of missions that would result in him getting beaten to the brink of death that many times. Had he been tested incorrectly at birth? Vegeta really wanted to test his theory and see the man’s power level, but scouters were taboo in the fighting arena—if you already knew someone was much stronger than their opponent, it took the fun out of watching a fight.

Most importantly though, the last thought in Vegeta’s mind was: ‘ _He might actually be able to win_.’


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A winner is declared and a misunderstanding is revealed.

It was almost time for the last fight to commence: Nappa versus the third class warrior who still remained a mystery. Vegeta’s eyes were staring so intensely at the white tile of the center ring, that they could have burned a whole through it if he tried. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and his tail was wound so taut around his waist that if he had actually been paying attention, he would have realized it was verging on painful. This was match that would determine his mate. The unknown fighter had continued to amaze Vegeta throughout the tournament, but did he really have a chance against an unmovable force such as Nappa?

Thankful that his father had relented on teasing him for the moment, Vegeta concentrated on the upcoming match, trying to picture the outcome in his head. There was no doubt that Nappa would be ruthless—he would be most likely be aiming to cripple the smaller man on principle alone. But the pale fighter had shown strength, speed, and cunning already—the third being one thing that Nappa sorely lacked. Perhaps it would be enough. Perhaps the man could use the General’s hot temper against him effectively. Or perhaps he would leave the ring on a body stretcher.

Vegeta sighed inwardly, he’d much rather had the other man as a mate than Nappa. Even if he planned on killing the oaf anyway, to even be associated with him in that manner was sickening enough. The thought of Council members coming up to him and trying to console him over the loss of his mate, Nappa, was enough to make his stomach threaten to empty itself.

Yes, the other man, whose name he was determined to catch this time around, would be much preferable. He was third class, but if he beat Nappa, then that would no longer be an issue. Clearly someone somewhere had messed up with his power rating and he should have been an Elite. If he won, he’d even be an honorary Prince so his old class was even less important. Begrudgingly, Vegeta was able to admit that he was handsome as well. Though he would never say that in front of his father.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long before the tall, slender Saiyan returned to the ring and held up a hand for attention, “The time has finally come for the final battle: General Nappa versus Kakarot!” The crowd burst into a cacophony of noise, thousands of Saiyans cheering on the fighter they wanted to win. “This match will determine who will become the mate of our mighty Prince Vegeta!”

Vegeta hadn’t thought it was possible, but the volume of the crowd actually managed to increase. That was unimportant though, he had finally found out the name of the other contestant. _‘Kakarot_.’ He repeated it several times in his head to make sure he didn’t forget. He felt a strong hand clap him on the shoulder, and he turned to see his father practically beaming from the chair next to him. ‘ _Probably just glad I’ll finally have a mate after all his nagging_.’ Vegeta gave him a half-smile in return, out of courtesy of course, but it seemed to affirm whatever idea was in the King’s head—causing his father to fold his arms in a commanding fashion and stare down at the ring.

The two contestants strode to the middle of the large circle and stared at each other. Both of them truly belonged to stand on that stage at this moment: Nappa for his brute strength and pure savagery, and Kakarot for defying all expectations. From what Vegeta had seen so far, he truly had no idea who would come out the victor. Nappa was incredibly strong, but Vegeta sensed that Kakarot had yet to show his full strength too. Unlike the man’s previous two matches, the Prince knew this one would not be over quickly as long as Nappa kept a level head.

For a few moments they just stared at each, Nappa smirking cockily and Kakarot keeping an unreadable mask on his face. Vegeta could hear the larger man taunting and insulting his opponent—goading him into making the first move. The words didn’t appear to faze the lower class warrior who continued to stand impassively on the other side of the ring. Holding up a fist in challenge, Nappa asked Kakarot if he was too scared to attack a true Elite. His words seemed to have no reaction, but as he took a step forward to demand an answer, his opponent finally moved.

As soon as Nappa’s foot had left the ground, Kakarot had charged forward, expression still neutral, and disappeared at the last moment before reaching the Elite. Looking around in bewilderment, Nappa didn’t have much time to wonder where the nimble man had disappeared to, as he was suddenly thrown to the ground from his legs being swept out from underneath him. Leaping to his feet with a snarl, Nappa turned to glare at the stoic face of Kakarot behind him.

Cockily laughing it off as a lucky hit, Nappa promised to show Kakarot his true power and went on the offensive this time. Neither his words nor his strength seemed to have much effect however, as Kakarot seemed to easily dodge every blow thrown his way. If this had not been such a serious match, it would have been comical how easily Kakarot evaded every punch from Nappa. The roar from the crowd swelled in excitement that the mightiest General could be humiliated by a third class.

It was easy to see that the burly man was getting angry, the desperate glare in his eyes and the sloppiness of his movements were plain evidence. Every time his fist collided with nothing but air, his brow furrowed deeper and deeper. Other than the initial strike, Kakarot had made no attempts to fight back, which may have actually grated on Nappa’s nerves more than all the misses. It was practically a slap to the face for a Saiyan, like the lower class man was proclaiming in front of the whole planet that his opponent wasn’t even worth fighting.

Jumping back a little to put some space between the two of them, Nappa was practically seething as he tried to catch his breath from chasing after the smaller fighter. Taking a few deep breaths, he straightened himself to his full height again and composed himself. Chuckling ominously, he congratulated Kakarot on making him fight this hard, but also promised that he would start taking the fight seriously. Speaking for the first time, Kakarot cockily responded that it would be a nice change of pace.

Meanwhile in the royal booth, Vegeta had been marveling at the one sided fight. Since the previous two matches of Kakarot’s had both been over in a single move, Vegeta wondered why he hadn’t done the same thing this time? He clearly outclassed Nappa during the match, so why prolong it? Musing on it, the Prince wondered if he was trying to prove that he really was that powerful and the previous fights hadn’t merely been flukes or luck. Or maybe he had been so bored with the other two that he decided to toy with Nappa in an attempt to amuse himself? Whatever his reasoning was, Kakarot seemed to be enjoying himself in the ring.

The wild haired man stared at his opponent with a small smirk, waiting for him to start fighting seriously, as Nappa had put it. As the beastly Saiyan raced towards him once again, Kakarot began to trade blows with the aggressive warrior. The seasoned General struggled to block the heavy hits, losing both ground and composure as he was forced backwards by the strength in Kakarot’s punches. Getting irate again even after trying to calm himself, Nappa thrust his knee upwards towards Kakarot’s gut, hoping to put some distance between the two of them. The cheeky third class just slid to the side, letting the knee miss him and also allowing him to land a quick series of jabs to Nappa’s unprotected side.

Howling out in a mixture of anger and pain, the mountainous Elite flew at his opponent, intent on breaking every bone in the man’s body for humiliating him this way. Kakarot smirked at the display of anger and let the enraged bull of a Saiyan come to him. Though instead of dodging, this time he merely flipped over Nappa as the man charged him, landing behind him and landing a backwards kick on the man’s spine. Stumbling forward in pain, the muscular General ground his teeth in embarrassment and turned to stare murderously at Kakarot. He roared that there was no way that the man should be that fast and added a string of curses to accentuate his point.

No longer smirking, Kakarot stared at him with a mockingly innocent expression and stated he thought they were fighting seriously now. It was enough to push Nappa over the edge and he came barreling at the smaller man. Each punch he threw was caught by Kakarot, who was slowly leading them higher and higher into the air. The blood-thirsty howls of Nappa rivaled the yells from the audience and he cocked his arm back to throw a devastating right hook.

Seeing the telegraphed move, Kakarot shot further upwards into the sky and blocked the blow with his left foot. He stayed there just long enough to see Nappa’s eyes widen in hatred. Then he quickly did a front flip in the air and brought his right heel down roughly on the top of the stunned warrior’s head, sending him flying to the floor of the ring. Dropping rapidly behind the falling figure, Kakarot landed on Nappa’s back right as he bounced off the white tiles, pinning him against the floor with a loud crack. After the decimating blow, it was all Nappa could do to breathe, much less move. As the medics carefully hauled him off on a stretcher, the announcer proclaimed Kakarot to be the champion.

For a few seconds Vegeta didn’t know what to do. The cheers of the crowd seemed so distant now and everything seemed more faded than it was before. This man had defeated the warrior who was supposed to be the strongest General in his father’s army. This man who had been designated a third class throw away hadn’t even broken a sweat while fighting. This man was to be his mate. Still feeling like he was in a daze, Vegeta rose from his chair and took a step towards the balcony rail. As he approached the edge, a part of him recognized that the crowd was getting ever louder now that he had risen, but they still seemed like they were miles away.

Looking down at the ring, he saw Kakarot smiling and holding up the ‘victory’ sign to the crowd. Vegeta wasn’t sure what to do—should he bow, clap, fly down there and shake his hand? It seemed very impersonal to salute your future mate. Surely the people would want to see the Prince and him together, right? But a frown was pulling at the corner of his lips at the idea; he would prefer to talk his mate privately for the first time. Applauding in an effort to buy himself more time, he decided he could not allow himself the luxury of doing things his way. If the people saw him leave without talking to Kakarot it might be interpreted as a slight against the man—and that would open the door to dissent against the honorary Prince and the royal family in general.

Now that he had decided he would have to pose with the champion for the crowd’s sake, he was unsure if he should go to the ring or wave the man up to the private booth. Shouldn’t Kakarot have to come to him instead of the other way around? Realizing that he had been clapping for longer than needed, he knew it was time to take action. Clearing the railing easily, the Prince floated down to the ring, watching Kakarot closely. The winner looked up at him as he descended and somehow the smile plastered on Kakarot’s face only got bigger. As soon as Vegeta touched down on the tile, the wild haired man bounded over to him in excitement.

“Do I get to fight you too, Prince Vegeta?!” Kakarot asked, his hands curled into fists of excitement at the prospect.

“You want to fight me?” Vegeta asked, caught completely off guard by such an unexpected proposal.

Kakarot nodded happily, “I know you’re a lot stronger than anyone else I fought, but I want to see it for myself!”

Vegeta’s eyebrow shot up in amusement at the man’s eagerness, and a smirk slowly spread across his face. He had been rather curious as to the extent of Kakarot’s abilities, after all, so what better way to find out than to test the man himself right here? Intrigued by his soon-to-be mate’s desire to face-off against him, the Prince nodded his approval.

“Alright, Kakarot, I will fight you. But don’t expect me to go easy on you,” Vegeta warned as he sunk into his fighting stance.

Grinning wildly, Kakarot also lowered himself into a stance with his arms spread wide.

“What’s this?! The champion, Kakarot, has challenged Prince Vegeta to a fight and the Prince has accepted! It looks like we will get one more show here today! This should be an amazing fight!” the announcer shouted into his scouter. The crowd responded enthusiastically, eager to see the prodigy Prince fight.

The smirk on Vegeta’s face never wavered as he stared across the ring at his challenger. He was sure his father would disapprove, but after being forced to sit still for so long, he felt he deserved this little exercise to blow off all the stress of the day. Besides, now he could see the result of all the extra training he had been doing. His own excitement was being reflected in Kakarot’s eyes and he fought not to shiver in anticipation of facing down his mate to be. Did the third class think he stood a chance? Was he really that powerful or just overly confident?

The need for answers drove Vegeta forward, Kakarot mirroring his movements a fraction of a second later. He could feel the blood pumping in his veins as they finally met in the center of the ring and he blocked the volley of punches thrown in his face. Feeling each of their impacts against his forearms as he blocked the flurry of attacks, he saw that Kakarot was indeed powerful—those strikes would have taken down a lesser fighter quickly. But the Prince easily deflected them and answered with a quick upwards kick to Kakarot’s chin.

Letting his fall transform into a backflip, Kakarot sprang forward when he finally regained his balance and came at Vegeta with a loud yell. The next second, the Prince’s head snapped back and his vision was full of flashes as he realized that the third class had actually landed a hit on him. He felt more punches pummel into his chest, but instead of making him angry, he only smirked more. Slamming the heel of his hand into Kakarot’s nose, he used the momentary distraction to phase out behind the taller man and used a strong front kick to send the warrior flying.

Wiping a small trickle of blood from his mouth, as Kakarot got back on his feet, Vegeta wondered how long it had been since a Saiyan managed to draw blood from him. Even if Kakarot was still not near his power level, it was the closest thing to a challenge he had had in a long time. If anything, at least the lower class man was trying, unlike many warriors who feared the Prince’s ire if they actually landed a blow on him. That was the reason he preferred to train with Saibamen after all, they didn’t care if he was the Prince or not, they just attacked. But perhaps this new mate would prove to be a better training partner, especially as he grew stronger.

But before all that, he needed to finish this fight first. Kakarot was in his face again, throwing punches and the occasional kick if Vegeta blocked too many fists. He pondered how to end their match; he didn’t want to humiliate someone who was going to become part of the royal family after all. So that meant no ring outs. If at all possible, he also wanted to avoid having to cripple the warrior and make him spend time in a healing tank before they even had a chance to discuss Kakarot’s new role in life. As he caught Kakarot’s fist in his hand, he held onto it and decided to apply pressure until the flailing fighter submitted.

Struggling to break free from Vegeta’s hold on his fist, Kakarot swung another punch aimed for the Prince’s side, but that one was easily caught too. Vegeta now had both hands locked in a crushing vice grip and he could see that pain on his opponent’s face even as the man continued to fight free. Kakarot tried to kick Vegeta away from him, but he was at a disadvantage being this close to the smaller framed man. Smirking in satisfaction that his new mate still refused to give up, Vegeta kicked one of the taller man’s legs out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

Kakarot cried out in pain and maybe a bit of frustration as well, but still refused to give up. Pushing himself upwards from his kneeling position, the taller man used the momentum to head-butt Vegeta. When that didn’t release the Prince’s hold on him, he did it again. He managed to get in several blows before Vegeta wrenched him forward by his arms and used his own force against him by planting a knee deep into his stomach. Doubling over in agony, Vegeta finally let go of the fists he had been crushing and landed a heavy double-handed attack on the back of Kakarot’s head. No longer having the strength to stand, Kakarot crumpled to the floor and heaved for air.

Vegeta’s eye twitched as he realized he had gone a little overboard. ‘ _So much for pushing him into a submission_.’ Kakarot seemed to be fine for the most part, so thankfully he wouldn’t have to swim in a healing tank too long. He glanced over at the announcer to proclaim the match over, and then glanced at his private booth out of the corner of his eye. Even though he probably appeared calm to the crowd, Vegeta could tell his father was angry. Vegeta motioned for a medic to carry Kakarot and then crossed his arms—it wasn’t his fault that his newly announced mate had challenged him to a fight. Besides the crowd had enjoyed it and it was his duty to ensure the masses were satisfied, wasn’t it? He felt justified in accepting the challenge and his father should just be thankful he didn’t kill the man.

Leaving the arena with the medic who carried Kakarot, he instructed him to take him to a private facility in the castle. Even if it was only for a short time, it wouldn’t do to have his mate treated like a commoner anymore. He would soon be a prince himself, and should be treated as such immediately. Vegeta could hear Kakarot mumbling nonsense in his half-lucid state and wondered how hard he had hit the man. Watching as they loaded the tall figure into the tank, Vegeta couldn’t help but appreciate his new mate’s body. Pale flawless skin covered his muscular frame, but he was also well-proportioned so that he didn’t appear overly bulky. Allowing his eyes to look further down than that bard broad chest, he quickly snapped them back up to Kakarot’s face. It would not be very princely to ogle an unconscious man.

Even after agreeing that it was wrong, Vegeta snuck one more quick peek when the technician was occupied at the controls, suppressing the smirk that wanted to cross his face at the sight. That could wait until later, after they had talked. Regardless of the man’s perfect body, the Prince wasn’t the type to take tumbles in the bed on a whim. He briefly wondered if his mate was the same way, but again pushed the thoughts from his mind to instead ask the technician how long the process would take. Looking over the display screen, the medic said it should only be a matter of minutes to get the warrior back to full health.

Vegeta nodded his approval and crossed his arms, going through a mental checklist of things that would need to be done now. First Kakarot would have to undergo some teachings of Planet Vegeta’s Court and how act in any proceedings he might be a part of. Then Vegeta supposed that they would have some large celebration to announce Kakarot as his chosen mate, even though the tournament had sealed his fate, it was not grand enough for such an occasion if his father had anything to say about it. And during all this time, he was expected to…what? Become close to his mate? View him as a convenience? Fall in love with him? Was that what his father had done?

The Prince couldn’t remember much of his mother, just glimpses of a smiling face and the feeling of security. King Vegeta never spoke of her after she passed away, but whether it was because it was too sorrowful of a subject or because he didn’t feel the need to mention her again, Vegeta wasn’t sure. He glanced over at the resting face of Kakarot. The power and cunning of the man had initially interested him, but could it go beyond that? In the few words they had exchanged, he had only been challenged, which was surprising, but not in a bad way. What if he constantly challenged Vegeta and only took this opportunity to gain power?

That was what Vegeta had thought of many of his suitors and why they had been dismissed so readily. It wasn’t that he had expected to find something as sappy as love among them, but at least they could have stopped salivating over the idea of being the mate of the future King. Those kinds of Saiyans infuriated Vegeta, too weak to claim the throne through their strength; they relied on manipulative words like cowards. But his mate was strong; there was no doubt about that. Even if he ended up hating the man, Vegeta could still respect him for that much.

The sound of the door sliding open stirred him from his thoughts and he looked up to see his father entering the room. One look at the man floating in the healing liquid and he turned to face his son with a deep frown.

“Did you really think it necessary to beat him like that?” King Vegeta asked with a disappointed sigh.

“He challenged me and I accepted. In a battle between Saiyans, he knew the consequences,” the Prince answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “He is mostly fine. I only put him in there so we could have an actual discussion instead of the nonsense he was spouting off.”

“And the only way you could put an end to the fight was to give him a concussion? You should have told him to stand down,” the King argued, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I didn’t think it was very sporting. The audience seemed to enjoy themselves,” Vegeta argued nonchalantly. The Prince had learned long ago that there wasn’t really a way to ‘win’ an argument with the King; instead the only option was to pretend to be as calm as possible, leaving his father to look like the temperamental one. It seemed to work as the King wordlessly ground his teeth in annoyance, but said no more on that subject.

“Once you finish talking with him, or whatever you’re going to do, come and speak with me. We will discuss plans for him and your announcement ceremony,” King Vegeta instructed tersely, turning on his heel to exit the room.

Rolling his eyes at the “whatever you’re going to do” part, Vegeta turned back to the tank with a thoughtful stare. Hopefully Kakarot would be done soon and they could talk and then maybe Vegeta wouldn’t feel quite so restless. Inwardly sighing, he wondered if maybe they shouldn’t talk right now after all—he was feeling on edge after the small confrontation with the King and maybe Kakarot wasn’t really in the mood to talk to someone who had just beaten him. Perhaps he should go spar some, give the man some space to absorb the fact that, yes, he would be an honorary Prince soon. His stomach groaned for attention and he remembered that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

His eyes lit up at the idea of eating; Kakarot was probably hungry too after his fights and then if they didn’t want to talk to each other then they could just stuff their faces instead. Any awkward silences could be rationalized as two Saiyans that were just too hungry to carry on conversation. Sometimes he marveled at his own brilliance. Stepping out into the hallway, where he knew some servant would be patiently waiting to follow him around the planet if need be, he saw a young woman that he recognized as one of his attendants and instructed her to have a meal ready for the two of them. She nodded and spoke hurriedly into her earpiece, alerting the kitchen staff of the order. Trusting her not to fail him, Vegeta went back into the medical room feeling better about the situation already.

Walking over to a small closet, Vegeta pulled out one of the spare training suits the medical room kept stocked for occasions such as this—there had been plenty of times when the Prince would destroy his suit while fighting hordes of Saibamen, so it was just easier to keep them handy instead of constantly having servants fetch them. Stepping next to the console near the tank, he nodded for the medic to go ahead and pull Kakarot out—if there were any residual injuries they would be minor enough to heal on their own.

As the greenish water slowly drained, Kakarot blinked his eyes open and pulled the mask off his face. Vegeta handed him the fresh suit as he exited the tank with grin, keeping his eyes focused solely on his mate’s face.

“Get dressed, they should have food ready for us by the time we get to the dining hall,” Vegeta instructed, noting the way Kakarot’s eyes lit up at the mention of food.

“Great! I’m starving!” the wild-haired man exclaimed with a huge grin, rapidly pulling on his clothes with only a minimal struggle in his excitement. Once dressed, he followed the Prince out of the medical room and down the hall. Staring wide-eyed at all the lavish decorations throughout the corridors, he let out an astounded trill. “This place is huge! Do you ever get lost here?” he wondered out loud.

Vegeta let a smirk tug the corner of his mouth up, amused by the man’s reaction to being in the palace. “You’ll learn your way around soon enough. But you needn’t worry; you’ll have someone assigned to you at all times. If you happen to get lost, they will escort you to where you need to go,” the Prince answered, mentally adding that to the top of his to-do list. Kakarot looked a little puzzled by the statement, but soon resumed gaping at his surroundings. ‘ _Maybe he wasn’t expecting to be moved into the palace so soon._ ’ The Prince wondered if that was the source of the confused look. “You may leave the castle in your free time, if you wish, but not without escort,” he added, hoping it would clear things up.

After all, the man wasn’t a prisoner here—but at the same time Vegeta couldn’t risk something happening to his future mate. The Saiyans weren’t called the greatest warrior race in the universe lightly. They were brutal and unrelenting in all things, war and politics included. So while the royal family was well respected, that didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t see Kakarot wandering alone as a golden opportunity for their own advancement. It wasn’t merely a question of strength either; they only had to whisper the right words into his ear to threaten the Vegetas’ rule. Or maybe he was part of some clandestine group already and would try to sneak off to a secret meeting, in which case he needed to know these things. So it really was in Vegeta’s best interest to keep eyes on the man.

Finally arriving at the dining hall, Vegeta ushered the taller man inside and smirked at the shocked cry of delight Kakarot made upon seeing a table laden with dishes of all kinds. The warrior ran, practically skipped really, to the long table and immediately began grabbing dishes and shoveling their contents into his mouth. Vegeta’s smirk melted into a look of repulsed shock at the lack of table manners Kakarot displayed. Taking a seat nearby the frenziedly eating man, but not so close as to get food particles thrown on him, Vegeta joined in the meal in a much more civilized manner. Every so often, he would glance at Kakarot out of the corner of his eye, amazed that the man managed to not bite off his own fingers in his haste.

After dish upon dish were devoured, servants replaced them quickly, staring openly at the way Kakarot inhaled food. Vegeta shot them a reproachful look and they hastily got back to their duties with stoic expressions covering their faces. The Prince sighed mentally. For all the potential his mate had shown so far, this was definitely an area he lacked in. Vegeta could already picture some important celebration with all kinds of diplomats in attendance, all staring at the Saiyan vacuum as he ate. Or worse: Lord Frieza. Shuddering at the thought of giving the galactic emperor more of a reason to taunt the Saiyans as monkeys, Vegeta vowed to make dinner etiquette the first of Kakarot’s lessons.

Thankfully the eating eventually slowed and Kakarot sat back with an appreciative hand resting on his belly. “Ah! That was amazing! I’ve never been able to eat this much food before!” he announced happily. Catching Vegeta’s eye, he grinned and sat up a little straighter, “So when do we get to go on our first mission?” His eyes brimmed with the same excitement they had as when he had challenged Vegeta to a fight.

“Mission?” Vegeta’s brow furrowed, taken aback that Kakarot’s first question had been about that and not more immediate concerns. The Prince rarely went on missions, usually passing them off to someone else unless they looked to promise a high challenge. He did often leave for other planets seeking fights, but that was for his own amusement and not a job he had to complete. But then again, as a third class warrior, Kakarot was probably used to going on missions all the time for the Cold Empire. He probably just hadn’t realized that his new status change would exempt him from those petty kinds of jobs.

“Not any time soon, Kakarot. We will be busy enough here as it is. We have no need to take on missions, but if you desire to in the future, we can,” the Prince answered, not opposed to the idea, but still feeling it was a little beneath him.

“Then what’s the point of being on your team if we aren’t going to do any missions?” Kakarot frowned and slumped in his chair again, a general air of disappointment hanging around him.

Again Vegeta was left puzzled by the strange questions Kakarot kept asking. He replayed the short conversation in his head, trying to pick apart the man’s meaning. It was interesting that he thought of their upcoming bond as being on a team, but given his previous status Kakarot was probably used to seeing his companions that way. The Prince wouldn’t admit it out loud, but a part of him liked the idea. His mate; his team. He was glad that Kakarot saw him that way instead of a foothold to power. Vegeta felt himself warming up to his new mate a little more. Maybe Kakarot saw the missions as a bonding opportunity for the two of them? If so he couldn’t fault the man for wanting to partake in them, you could learn a lot about someone when dumped on a hostile planet alone with them and forced to fend for yourselves.

“Perhaps after the announcement ceremony we could take on a quick mission,” Vegeta contemplated out loud. He noticed Kakarot’s eyes light back up. ‘ _Father would probably be pleased if we got along well anyway_.’ It was then that he remembered he had been planning on taking a mate he was displeased with out on a mission and having them meet an unfortunate accident. Could Kakarot be planning that for him? Vegeta hadn’t sensed anything suspicious about the man so far and judging by their earlier fight he didn’t think his opponent had been holding back. But on the off chance that Kakarot really did have the hidden power to beat him, then…well Vegeta could think of worse ways to go. He wasn’t going to let it happen of course, but the thought of dying in an all-out clash for survival didn’t bother him in the same way it might to someone of another race.

“What was that, Kakarot?” Vegeta glanced at the man beside him, he had been so absorbed in his thoughts of murder and death that he had completely missed what his new mate had said.

“I heard you always get the hardest missions and I want to fight as many strong people as I can! That was why I was so excited when that man said I got to be your teammate because I won the championship! I want to keep pushing myself to get stronger!” Kakarot chattered with a big grin on his face.

Vegeta blinked. Then blinked again as his mind scrambled to process what had just been said and the implications of the words. There was a misinterpretation somewhere along the lines that was causing alarm bells to ring in Vegeta’s head. He stared at Kakarot, really looked at the man, the handsome young features and naïve smile did nothing to calm the maelstrom brewing inside the Prince at the moment. Suddenly the mention of being on Vegeta’s team didn’t have the same pleasant ring to it as it had earlier. On the contrary, it now rang out as a rather bitter note.

“When you say we are on the same team, you mean in reference to us becoming mates, correct?” Vegeta asked in the deadliest calm voice possibly.

“Well yeah, I guess we could call ourselves mates, but don’t you think it will confuse people that we’re actually _mate_ mates?” Kakarot asked, tilting his head to the side a little and holding his chin as if pondering the potential reactions.

The alarm bells were now full out sirens now. “Kakarot, why did you enter the tournament?” Vegeta tried to offer him one last chance to say the right answer.

“The posters said they were looking for the strongest Saiyan on the planet, so I wanted to fight them! Then when I found out I got to be your teammate because I won, it was even better!”

“My mate!” Vegeta hissed through clenched teeth as he bolted up from his chair. “Not my teammate, my MATE! Mate as in Prince Vegeta and Prince Kakarot, as in you will stand beside me in all royal affairs, as in we will produce offspring together! That was the point of the tournament, not just so I could find someone to go on trivial missions with!” The Prince could feel his face flushed with anger and his body trembling in rage. Not just at Kakarot for being completely oblivious as to what was going on, but at himself too for thinking so highly of the man! How much praise had he given the low class man? Oh yes, he had believed him to be a tactical genius and as being so onboard with becoming mates with Vegeta that he referenced them as a team! Every complimentary thought he had directed at the man now seemed like a slap to the face.

Seeing Kakarot’s shocked and bewildered expression was not helping the situation; the least the man could do was pretend to be embarrassed! The Prince clenched his fists at his sides, his stomach tying itself into stress knots. He had allowed himself to taken in by a fool! A fool who only wanted to fight and apparently had no interest in Vegeta other than as a sparring partner and a gateway to harder missions. Even worse, he hadn’t even entered the tournament for that reason; he hadn’t entered knowing of any connection of the contest to Vegeta. He just stumbled into it blindly and thought he had won a different sort of prize than what was actually being offered!

Too angry to continue existing in the same space as the silent third class, Vegeta strode out of the dining hall as quickly as he could without running. Closing the door behind him, he glared at the attendant that was waiting in the hallway for them.

“Take him to one of the guest rooms and don’t let him out of your sight. If he tries to go anywhere outside the palace let me know immediately,” Vegeta barked his order harshly to the servant, who thankfully had the grace to accept with a nod and stepped inside the dining room to carry out the instructions.

Not wanting to be around when Kakarot exited, Vegeta stormed off, needing to speak with the King immediately. He was able to wipe the scowl from his face, but it was a little harder to stop the twitch in his left eye.


	3. Chapter Three

 

Striding quickly through the halls, the young Prince tried to calm the whirlwind of furious thoughts within him. He had known better than to get his hopes up about the outcome of the tournament and yet he had done precisely that. He had been so desperate to not be paired with Nappa that he had put in inordinate amount of faith in the man he had just left behind. He had been so caught up in the elation of Kakarot’s win that he blindly trusted that the third class wouldn’t disappoint him.

But oh was he disappointed.

Knocking loudly on the door to his father’s office, he entered upon hearing the King’s deep voice instructing him to come in. He straightened his back and masked his face in a neutral look, stepping up to the large desk and waiting for his elder to speak first.

“You’re unusually quiet, is there a problem with the man?” King Vegeta asked with a hint of worry.

The Prince shifted uncomfortably, trying to pick his words carefully in answer to the question. His father was staring him down with a steely gaze, most likely wondering if Kakarot would cause trouble for their rule. With a mental sigh, Vegeta decided to be honest.

“He entered the tournament because he wanted to fight strong opponents. He wasn’t aware that he would become my mate as a result of winning. I do not believe he is thrilled with the outcome.” It was the most straight forward answer he could give without showing the King how irritated the winner had made him.

The King frowned and spoke lowly, “It does not matter if he likes it or not. We cannot go back on the decision unless he is deemed a threat. Do you think he will be a liability?”

Darting his eyes to the side, Vegeta thought of the embarrassing way in which the fighter ate, but couldn’t think of any other reason to suspect the man was a threat to them. If he hadn’t even known of the potential to become an honorary Prince then it was highly unlikely he was planning any kind of treason.

“I do not believe so,” the young Prince spoke slowly as if considering each word even as they left his mouth. “I will have him closely watched at all times, of course, but I do not suspect subterfuge.”

The ruler nodded, trusting his son to handle the situation. “Then have him prepped for the announcement ceremony. We will hold it in one month’s time, when the moon is at its waxing crescent. He’s from the low class so make sure he doesn’t embarrass us,” he added with a serious glare.

“I will handle it, Father,” Vegeta nodded his head. He waited a few seconds more, wanting to express his displeasure with the situation, but knowing that it would change nothing. His father stayed silent however, so he decided to follow suit and turned to leave, assuming the conversation to be over. He only made it a few steps when the King’s voice stopped him.

“Are you happy, my son?”

A scowl crossed Vegeta’s face, unseen by the ruler. What was the point of even asking that question? Was he supposed to be happy to be paired with someone who didn’t seem to want anything to do with him as a mate? Or did the King think he was happy that he wasn’t paired with someone that wanted those things and therefore he wouldn’t have to feel obligated to give them? He again wiped all emotion from his face and before facing the King again.

“I would have preferred someone who knew what they were getting into at least,” he answered honestly and plainly.

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll keep him out of the spotlight, and any of his appearances brief. As long as he stays in line and acts the way we want him to then that is what matters. You didn’t even want a mate, so one that’s not interested in the position suits you well. You can live your separate lives as much as you want, as long as you two act the part at formal events and have your offspring.” King Vegeta said it all so matter-of-factly, as if it were the tiniest concern on the planet.

Merely offering a respectful “Yes, Father,” in reply, the Prince left the office before any more conversation could happen. He was still unsure what to think of it all. What the King had said was partly true: he hadn’t wanted a mate and didn’t really want to be tied down with those responsibilities. That was what he wanted now though, at this specific point in time. But it wasn’t to be confused with him never wanting more. He had been waiting all this time precisely because he hadn’t found anyone worth spending the rest of his life with, now he had someone who didn’t want him. It would be entirely laughable if it were occurring to someone else.

Except that there was the unavoidable fact that it was indeed happening to him. Not bothering to hide his sigh this time, he stilled in the hallway. It was still too early to sleep; he could go beat a few Saibamen to a pulp as stress relief before retiring. Or perhaps a good massage? Not nearly as fun, but still relaxing. Shaking his head, he decided he really wanted to punch something at the moment.

Or someone. He could drag Kakarot’s ass in there, since the man was such a glutton for a fight. Snorting at the thought, he decided that would only lead to the idiot spending more time in the healing tanks—something that needed to be avoided if he was going to be groomed into a royal before the end of the month. There would be no way that Vegeta would be able to hold back his anger if he had to be around the very source of it. That only left him with the little multicolored mutants for practice, so he strode off to his training room.

As he pressed various buttons at the command console, ordering a variety of the strongest Saibamen types to take his frustration on, hoping they would amuse him long enough to work out his thoughts. Satisfied with his selection, he pulled off his cape and armor, opting to enter the chamber in just his undersuit. He did a few light stretches as the Saibamen entered through a chute on the opposite wall. When the tenth one plopped onto the floor, Vegeta gave them a feral smirk as the sign to begin. A gray creature sprang forward first, but the moody Prince batted it aside with a crushing palm strike. Preferring to take out the weakest ones first, he set his sights on two of the green ones instead.

Engineered to be vicious, the other Saibamen didn’t appreciate being ignored and they piled upon the Prince, clawing and biting as he fought them off in order to focus on his intended targets. This really was the best stress relief in Vegeta’s opinion, slamming his fist through the chest of a green mutant with a contented sigh. One by one his opponents fell, starting with the weakest and leaving the strongest for last—Vegeta saw it as a sign of respect, giving them the honor of his full attention. It didn’t take long overall to dispatch of them all, but nothing beat the satisfaction of knowing something was dead because of you to get over a shitty day.

The petite Prince sank to the floor with a serene expression on his face and leaned back against the bloodied chest of one of the Saibamen. Picking up a severed limb and while absentmindedly chewing on it, he thought about what his father had said to him about living separate lives. ‘ _Maybe he’s right after all. I’ve gotten along just fine on my own so far, that doesn’t need to change. It would have been nice if it worked out, but it didn’t, so I just have to keep moving ahead_.’ Nodding to himself as if that could make the sentiment more official, he flung the gnawed arm across the room and stood. Dusting himself off briefly, he left the training room and made his way through the long corridors once more. At the intersection between the royal quarters and the guest wing, he stilled for a few seconds while gazing at the row of doors—knowing Kakarot was behind one of them. ‘ _It would have been nice_.’ Vegeta turned away and went straight to his room.

XXXXX

Waking the next morning to a short rapping on his door, Vegeta cracked an eye open and immediately rolled it back in his head seeing a stout servant entering quietly. Rising from his bed with a yawn, he held one hand over his mouth and the other up in a commanding fashion so that the portly man wouldn’t go anywhere. Finally getting the air back in his lungs, the Prince looked to the waiting Saiyan and inquired about Kakarot’s whereabouts.

The man’s gaze fell from Vegeta’s eyes, “He is still asleep, my Lord. My deepest apologies, but it seems that he is rather hard to rouse.”

Snorting in wonder that someone could actually sleep through a wakeup call in Castle Vegeta, the diminutive Prince crossed his arms before speaking again.

“Make sure he wakes up and serve him breakfast privately. I will take my own in the dining hall. Then bring me Mentor Cama so that we may discuss Kakarot’s lessons. That’s all,” Vegeta spoke quickly and concisely, not wanting to spend too much time on what would most likely turn into a headache. The memories of his future mate’s eating habits flooded back from last night and he was thankful he wouldn’t be subjected to that twice.

The barrel-chested man nodded and bowed, leaving the chamber to fulfill his duties. Once alone again, Vegeta let out a small sigh. One month to turn a third class idiot into a prince? Things were already off to a rocky start if they couldn’t even get the man out of bed. Refocusing on getting himself prepared for the day, Vegeta smirked silently as he thought about what the Mentor’s reaction would be to Kakarot. If the memories of his own strict tutelage were anything to go by, his new mate would be in for quite the surprise. With images of hard discipline being generously doled out by the old teacher, Vegeta was able to shower and dress with a smile.

XXXXX

 After finishing his breakfast that was thankfully free of flying food crumbs, Vegeta sat in a state that neared contentment. Every situation looked better on a full stomach—even one as stressful as his current situation with his new mate. Seeing the tall Mentor, hair shortly spiked and lips pressed into a habitual frown, enter the dining hall, Vegeta managed to somehow sit even straighter in his chair than he was before. He nodded in polite acknowledgement of his previous tutor and bid the man to sit down.

“As you are most likely aware, I have become betrothed quite recently. However, he is from the third class and needs extensive teachings of the proper etiquette befitting the prince he will become. The announcement ceremony will be held in one month,” he paused to hold up a hand at the slight twitch of the older man’s lips, “but I do not expect a miracle. Have him prepared for the ceremony and then you can focus on less urgent lessons afterwards.”

Vegeta could tell by the tense posture of his former teacher that the man did not consider any lessons less urgent than others. To Mentor Cama every lesson was top priority and each was practiced until perfected. The previously confident Prince suddenly got a tiny twinge of nervousness that the instructor’s own rigorous teaching style would impede their progress. After all, Vegeta had been a rebellious child and Kakarot was a grown man capable of seeing the importance of these lessons in a much more immediate sense. The royal prodigy blinked that he was still giving the man more credit than deserved and hoped that at least on this one tiny facet that he was right.

“And what is your impression of him thus far, young Master?”

It was spoken drolly, as if the senior Saiyan had read his mind about Kakarot. Finding himself hesitant to answer because now that he was responsible for his mate, it didn’t reflect well on him. But seeing as Cama would soon find out anyway, Vegeta let out an inaudible huff and met his tutor eyes with an intense gaze.

“From what I’ve seen, he will need all the help he can get,” the Prince’s eyes shined with the challenge to question him further on the topic.

“Very well, then I will get started immediately,” Mentor Cama bowed his head respectfully and stood to leave. “Feel free to join in the lessons if you are available. It never hurts to brush up on the basics,” he added with another tip of his head and strode briskly from the room.

Once the heavy door closed and his tutor was out of sight, Vegeta dropped his shoulders back down into a slight slump. Being around the strict Saiyan always managed to put him on edge and he didn’t exactly feel eager to take Cama up on his offer to join the lessons. A voice in the back of his head told him he probably should just take make sure Kakarot was actually taking them seriously, but the Mentor would speak to him if that became an issue. That was one thing Vegeta was more than sure of in fact.

So the Prince decided to let it be for now; after all Kakarot probably needed space to himself anyway to sort out how drastically his life was about to change. Even if the curious man wasn’t interested in being a mate, he needed to get used to living in the castle and being an object of constant scrutiny. He didn’t need Vegeta breathing down his neck to make things worse. ‘ _That makes sense, right? A perfectly valid reason to avoid him,_ ’ Prince Vegeta rationalized to himself. Surely nobody could find a fault him for being so considerate of his new mate.

Pushing away from the table and checking a clock as he rose from his seat, Vegeta saw it was nearing time for a council meeting. Hiding a grimace at the thought of having to attend, he left the dining hall with short but purposeful strides, his stout servant quickly falling in line behind him.

XXXXX

They were not often, but there were times when Vegeta envied Tarble. As he fought to stay focused on what was being said, he knew that this was definitely one of those times. His younger brother was blessed with never having to attend one of these tedious meetings. No, he got to gallivant around the universe as he pleased instead. Nobody expecting him to come home any time soon, he had the complete freedom Vegeta sometimes longed for. But then the captive Prince remembered that freedom came at the cost of never being expected to inherit the Saiyan kingdom. That always gave Vegeta the renewed strength to carry out his duties.

Even if those duties included sitting through meetings that involved more talking than killing people. That didn’t happen nearly enough for Vegeta’s tastes, but when it did, it made his attendance more enjoyable. Today didn’t look to be going in that direction so far though. The main topics on agenda were new contracts from Lord Frieza, their distribution among squads, and Vegeta’s new mate and his impact on the social structure. He was hardly waiting with baited breath for that discussion to begin.

Maybe if Kakarot had been more enthusiastic about the mating, he would have been laughing at the uptight councilors getting upset about a third class man not only being laughable stronger than an elite class general, but also becoming part of the royal family. But at the moment he didn’t really want to sit and hear other people bicker over what it meant for power levels and future testing or if the population would champion Kakarot over Vegeta. As long as he stayed stronger than his mate, he didn’t see the problem. So all he had to do was continue training as he had and that wouldn’t be an issue.

Fighting the urge to prop his head up with his hand, he wondered again about Kakarot’s strength. That was one question he regretted that he neglected to ask yesterday. The idiot had completely sidetracked him by asking about missions and teams and—he had to stop that train of thought before he broke the arms of his chair off by clenching his fists too hard. Back to the original query, he was very interested in finding out how someone rated to be among the lowest kept on planet had suddenly become one of the strongest.

Did everyone have this potential? Did he? Could he exponentially increase his own power as Kakarot had? Of course the Saiyan zenkai had to be the obvious answer, but he had never heard of it having such staggering effects. The thought of his entire race evolving to be on the same power level as Frieza excited him; that they could one day be pulling the strings of the Planet Trade Organization instead of just pawns was worth investigating.

The Prince snapped his attention back to the meeting as he heard shouts among the councilors. Grasping that the argument was over planet contracts, he mentally berated himself for zoning out for so long. Hoping no one had noticed his lengthy lapse of attention, he resettled himself in his plush chair as the fight began to calm itself after a few more heated words. Wondering briefly about what Tarble might be up to at this moment instead of being cooped up here, he took a deep breath and put his whole focus forward.

It didn’t take long for the meeting to touch upon his mate. The tournament victor was the talk of the planet after all. The talks went as Vegeta had expected for the most part: how had he become so powerful, would the people prefer him over the Vegetas enough to cause problems, and if he was fit to become a prince. He hadn’t expected the councilors to question Kakarot’s right to become a prince. The man had proven himself worthy when he defeated Nappa—in a ‘might makes right’ society, his mate had more than earned his place at the Prince’s side. The coarse man might not have the social graces and mindset yet, but his victory in the ring couldn’t be denied. Maybe it could still turn into a day someone got killed.

XXXXX

As Vegeta was finally able to leave the council chamber, he lamented that unfortunately he didn’t get to blast anyone into smithereens. The King had made it clear that the outcome of the tournament, while completely unexpected, would stand. And as much it annoyed Vegeta to do so, he had defended Kakarot against their attacks on his previous social status and fielded their questions to the best of his ability. Which wasn’t really saying much, since the total time he had spent in his mate’s presence equated to one to two hours at best.

He couldn’t really blame them for being so suspicious about the unknown man, but that didn’t mean he took their criticisms and concerns gracefully. Vegeta had nearly all but snapped when the King called for an end to the meeting until they gathered more information. Never having been so grateful for royal privilege, he practically bolted from the room as soon as the words were out of his father’s mouth. But the meaning behind the King’s words didn’t escape the younger Vegeta—he fully expected his son to be the one to find out this information; resolution to avoid Kakarot be damned.

On the bright side though, he could now blame his actions on the worries of the council and not actually him wanting to spend time with his reluctant mate. Which he truly didn’t want to do, but he also didn’t want it to seem like he did. His fists clenched reflexively at the thought of seeing Kakarot in his current mood, so he decided to get some background history elsewhere. The Intelligence department was supposed to have a report ready for him so Vegeta made a beeline for their offices.

Once inside, he needed no preamble for the cause of his visit and was instead immediately ushered into a private office. The chief officer pulled up the relevant files on his datapad and slid it across the desk to Vegeta.

“There is not much information on Kakarot beyond the basics, my Lord. He is the second son of a squad leader named Bardock and a retired warrior, Gine. He was born with the power rating of merely five,” the officer sneered the word, as if having to investigate someone so low classed was beneath him. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the number, but gave no other reaction so he continued.

“He was meant to be shipped off to a low threat planet at birth, but there was a malfunction with his pod and part of it exploded on takeoff. He suffered a serious head wound that kept him planet side and then his mother petitioned for him to stay on Vegeta as a noncombat citizen after he healed. However, it seems that around the age of twelve he began accompanying his brother, Raditz, on low level missions and then later traveling with his father. The list of missions he has participated in is on the datapad, if you’re interested.”

Vegeta stared reservedly at the small tablet, flicking his finger over the screen to scroll through the list. None of the missions listed seemed out of the ordinary for a third class, so it didn’t appear to be the answer he was looking for. It was certainly a strange tale though: a baby with a pitiful power level somehow became of the strongest Saiyans even though he didn’t seem to enter combat before age twelve? He swiped the screen back to Kakarot’s personal information to double check his birth—it was a span of only seven years from his first mission until now.

Obviously it was only natural for a Saiyan to grow stronger over time, but this was ridiculous. Vegeta couldn’t think of any other time he had heard of someone’s power growing so much in such a relatively short amount of time—not even he had made that kind of leap in power and he was a prodigy among their race. But then again, maybe that had been his downfall? Had he taken his power for granted because he was already the strongest and hadn’t realized the potential levels he could reach? Cataloging that thought for later musing, he looked over the rest of the information on the screen. Nothing else really stood out of note other than the injury in childhood. ‘ _That certainly does seem to explain one thing, but not the answer I need_ ,’ he thought sarcastically.

Tossing the datapad back on the desk with a sigh, Vegeta looked back to the officer, silently asking if there was anything else with his intense gaze.

“That is all the information we have on him, Majesty. He doesn’t have any other public records and before yesterday did not appear to have accomplished anything of great note,” the chief officer offered while folding his hands atop each other.

“Thank you for your report,” Vegeta answered stiffly, leaving the offices as quickly as he had arrived.

Annoyed at not getting the answers he wanted from the Intelligence department, the perturbed Prince was left with only one last option: speaking to the man himself. Of course he couldn’t have avoided Kakarot forever, no matter how hard he tried, but it was still too soon for Vegeta. And too awkward. His only hope was that Mentor Cama had somehow instilled some sense into the man. Maybe he’d even be so glad to take a break from the taskmaster that he would be in an agreeable mood for questions. Crossing his arms over his compact frame, he instructed his shadowing servant to take him to his mate’s location.

XXXXX

It didn’t take long to arrive at the spacious study that Vegeta himself had spent many years in; learning everything there was to know about his responsibilities. Pushing the door open to see Cama sitting at the head of the table with a slight glower on his look while at the other end, Kakarot seemed frazzled to keep up with whatever was being taught earned the pair a small chuckle, drawing their attention to the prince.

“Mentor, my apologies for the interruption, but I must speak with Kakarot,” Vegeta smoothed over the disruption of the lesson with polite words. His tutor didn’t seem pleased, but rose to leave them in private regardless. As the taller man passed Vegeta in the doorway, he leaned in to speak softly.

“One month for basics will still be a miracle, your Highness,” Cama sternly uttered before whisking completely out of the room.

Vegeta smirked at the thought of his teacher having his patience tested, but his face fell back into a blank mask when he saw the apprehensive look on the face of the still seated man. Slowly taking a seat adjacent to his betrothed, Vegeta struggled to keep his demeanor calm as the atmosphere in the room became tenser due to their close proximity. Kakarot sat with his head down, gazing at the table more intensely than he had any reason to.

“The situation may be less than desirable, but if this,” he faltered for a second to come up with an appropriate word, “partnership is to work then we may as well be civil to each other.” He hoped that Kakarot didn’t notice that he was speaking more to himself than his mate.

As for his wild haired companion, the younger warrior idly twiddled his thumbs, still silent. Frowning at the lack of response, Vegeta decided to forego the niceties and get to the real reason he had sought out his mate.

“You were born with a power of five, but now have surpassed elite warriors even though you seem to have significantly less combat experience—how do you explain that, Kakarot?” Vegeta asked in an authoritative tone, hoping to snap the other man out of his daze. It seemed to partly work as the former third class finally met his eyes with a tentative smile.

“Even the weakest person can get stronger if they train hard enough,” he answered with another shy smile.

“But what specifically did you do to get so much stronger?” Vegeta pressed him, not satisfied with theoretical platitudes.

Kakarot leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest as if lost in thought. “Well at first I just trained with my mother and then I went out with my brother and father when they took on missions. But then that got boring, so I went out looking for stronger people to teach me on other planets,” Kakarot concluded with his mouth twisted in remembrance.

“What planets?” Vegeta inquired, more out of curiosity as to what civilization would willingly take in a Saiyan warrior.

“Ah, I don’t really remember their names,” Kakarot scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

“I should have known,” the royal muttered with a roll of his eyes. He wasn’t getting very much information out of this conversation and something told him that no matter how long it continued, he wouldn’t get much more. Surely the council would be interested in these other planets, but the logs could be pulled from Kakarot’s space pod if they wanted to investigate that further.

Even knowing he should leave it at this and go, Vegeta stayed seated beside the man who was now idly twiddling his thumbs in silence. Kakarot had not really given any response to his earlier comment about the mating, why should he continue to press the issue? ‘ _Because it’s happening in one month whether we want it or not_.’

“Did Cama explain your training to you?” Vegeta tiptoed around the issue carefully.

Kakarot nodded and sighed heavily, “That guy is really harsh!”

Vegeta genuinely laughed at the response, glad that someone else had to go through what he had endured for years. “Of course he is, if you are going to be part of the royal family you must act like one.”

“I didn’t know I’d have to go through all this just because I won that tournament,” he plopped his elbows on the table and held his chin in his hands.

‘ _Is he…is he pouting right now because he won_?’ The move irritated the Prince considerably; the next words came out of his mouth before he was able to stop them.

“Are you that opposed to being mated to me?” Vegeta snapped out of anger. There were countless numbers of Saiyans that would have given anything to be in Kakarot’s position, yet he seemed to completely scorn it. The Prince had never truly been on the receiving side of rejection, but he could already tell he hated the feeling.

Wide, surprised eyes met his narrowed flashing ones at the question, and it took every ounce of self-control to stay seated for the answer. He had to hear it. There was no way they could get past this until Kakarot’s answer was out in the open; if he left without knowing then the awkwardness between them would only continue. Looking like two fools at the announcement ceremony was not an option for royals; they were expected to be the perfect picture of a blissful union.

Kakarot chewed his lip, looking away from Vegeta again with an anxious demeanor. The Prince sighed and pushed his chair backwards from the table. The action spoke enough of what the other man thought of being his mate—even silence can be as clear an answer as words. Before standing to leave however, Vegeta gave one last attempt to salvage his pride by clarifying the situation.

“You don’t have to like being mated to me, but you are expected to go through the ceremony with me. You don’t even have to stay here, if you prefer to stay away on missions constantly, then so be it. But when we are together in public, we will appear as if there is no divide between us. Do you understand me, Kakarot?” Vegeta demanded an answer in a quiet, gravelly voice.

The Saiyan seated next to him slumped glumly in his chair and nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Good. Then I trust you will take Mentor Cama’s lessons to heart and be ready for the announcement in one month.” Vegeta rose and gave his new mate one last look before exiting the room. He saw Cama waiting in the hallway and nodded at the man in acknowledgement that his business here was concluded. Not sticking around to chat though, he quickly strode off before his teacher could question him on any of their conversation.

Although part of the Prince still seethed over being tied to Kakarot, another small part was glad that the situation was settled now. Kakarot knew his place and Vegeta would continue on as he had for years. They would present the image of perfect couple in public and silently hate each other in private. A part of Vegeta’s heart twinged at the thought and he wished there was someone whom he could seek counsel from; but his father hadn’t seemed concerned over their indifference to each other and there was really no one else he trusted to speak of it to.

Banishing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he remembered that he had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Retracing his steps back to the Intelligence offices, he instructed them to download the ship logs from Kakarot’s attack ball and have it analyzed for further clues into the Saiyan’s travels. He didn’t think much would come of the information, but perhaps there were some planets out there that held a greater challenge than Vegeta thought. Maybe the council would ask him to personally investigate and he would have a small break from all the current frustration he found himself burdened with. Maybe he’d even get to blow a few planets up. Tail puffing up in pleasure at the thought; he wondered if he should go as far as to volunteer to investigate. His father would be proud he was taking the initiative after all.

After finishing his errand with the intelligence officers, Vegeta had his attendant review the rest of his schedule for the day. There was nothing else terribly pressing, so the Prince decided to pass time pummeling Saiyan opponents until the intelligence report was prepared. It wasn’t exactly blowing up planets or tearing Saibamen limb from limb, but it would serve as a decent distraction for the moment. Having missed out on the melee from the tournament still nagged at him, so as he made his way out to the Elite training grounds, he had a perfect idea on how to rectify the situation.

Approaching the field were the strongest Saiyans gathered to hone their skills, he was somewhat disappointed to only see six warriors gathered at the moment. Pulling off his cape with a small smirk, he decided that they would have to do for now. Throwing a small warning blast through the middle of their group to capture their attention, his smirk only widened as their annoyed expressions melted into nervousness. Beckoning them over with a wave of his hand, the real blasts began to fly. As six Saiyans battled him at once, Vegeta concentrated only on the movement of energy through the air and way his blood sang with the rush of combat—all unnecessary thoughts disappeared from his mind, replaced by the feeling of fists connecting with their targets and the sounds of pain the connections brought forth. There was certainly no room to entertain thoughts of a mate who had thoroughly rejected him.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Kakarot come out of the closet. Literally.

Chapter Four

While idly flipping through the notes on his datapad from the last Council meeting, a sudden commotion down the corridor caught Vegeta’s interest. It looked like several servants running franticly as if they were searching for something by the way they glimpsed down each hallway they darted past. Shrugging it off as none of his concern, since he hadn’t been alerted to any troublesome situation, Vegeta walked off in the opposite direction, heading away from whatever potential headache lay in that hallway. Eyes on his screen again, he sighed in annoyance that the council hadn’t seen fit to investigate the worlds Kakarot had traveled to during his missions. He would have really loved to purge a few planets to get rid of the built up stress he had been feeling the past week.

Suddenly a slender servant girl ran past him, then quickly came to a halt and bowed politely with an awkward smile before jetting off again. The already aggravated Prince ground his teeth together in an effort to keep calm. ‘ _Just what the hell is going on around here anyway?_ ’ But the girl had already bounded off and he didn’t feel like expending even the minimal amount of energy it would take to chase after her. He felt certain someone else would come running along eventually anyway and he could just ask them instead.

Glancing idly back at his notes, he continued to make his way towards his father’s office. The King had asked for a meeting to discuss the plans for his announcement ceremony and since he was headed in the direction anyway, Vegeta decided it was as good a time as any. He could still hear footsteps running quietly in the background and quickened his own pace in response, certain that if anyone knew what was going on it would be his father. There was almost never this much activity in the castle without his knowledge of the happenings—actually there was almost never this much activity in the castles without him being the cause of it. The Prince smirked at a memory of his younger self going on a rampage because a guest had made the ultimate mistake of stepping on his cape and causing him to trip. Heads rolled for the embarrassment it had caused him and he vividly remembered people fleeing through the halls.

Vegeta let out a small sigh as he came back to the present; acting with such impunity was impossible now that he was older and couldn’t hide behind childish precociousness. Being the next ruler in line came with its own share of burdens even though, barring no accidents or unforeseen catastrophes, he would not actually become the King for a long time. When not out in the battlefield getting killed, Saiyans could live exceptionally long. Which left Prince Vegeta with the task of strengthening their bloodline, handling matters too mundane for the King to bother with, and generally doing whatever it took to bring more honor to house Vegeta. The last two were simple enough—he attended boring meetings and discussed boring plans and handled the toughest assignments from Lord Frieza so that the population could think and wonder about how great and powerful he was.

He would have gone on to ruminate on the problems of the first task, but he was suddenly knocked to the floor by someone running into him and the memories of the cape incident came flooding back to his mind. Looking up to put true fear into the heart of the servant that had toppled him, he was instead confused to see a panicked looking Kakarot staring down at him. Before he could ask any questions though, he was grabbed roughly by the arm and hauled into the closest room. Quickly closing the door behind them, Kakarot leaned against it with a long exhale, his expression a mixture of growing relief and receding anxiety.

“What are you doing?” Vegeta inquired with part annoyance and curiosity. First the servants were running amok and now Kakarot was dragging him into strange rooms without warning. Looking around he saw that they were in what appeared to be some sort of storage closet that the servants used. The other Saiyan hadn’t answered him fast enough and he was too annoyed to be in a cramped space with someone who had personally offended him, so Vegeta tried to push Kakarot away from the door in order to leave.

“No! Don’t go out there! They’ll find me!” Kakarot panicked and clutched onto the doorframe tightly as to not be dislodged.

“Who?” Vegeta took a step back and seriously studied the look on his companion’s face. “Is someone trying to hurt you?” He knew it sounded ridiculous as soon as he had said it considering Kakarot was most likely only second in strength to himself, but an attack on his mate may as well be an attack on all the royals. He pushed the larger man out of the way, determined to find out who would dare to threaten his future reign.

As soon as his hand reached for the door however, Kakarot tackled him to the side and pinned him to the opposite wall. Grunting from the impact of his face to the hard surface, Vegeta elbowed his captor hard in the ribs, gaining him enough space to twist around and grab the blue collar of Kakarot’s undersuit and pull him down to eye level. The sudden jerk downwards caused the bulky man to place his hands on wall to keep him from toppling onto his smaller mate.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? If there’s someone after you then we need to go out there and kill them!” Vegeta hissed in frustration at being constantly thwarted in his attempts to rectify the situation.

Kakarot blushed and looked to the side, away from the dark piercing eyes in front of him. “I don’t want to kill them, I just don’t want them to find me yet is all,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Who? You keep saying someone is going to find you and yet you won’t tell me who they are!” It was all Vegeta could do to keep from choking the man in front of him until he got some real answers.

Kakarot bit his lower lip and shyly made eye contact with the Prince before looking away again. It barely lasted a second or two, but it made Vegeta’s breath hitch as he suddenly realized the position they were in and how close they actually were. He released the stretchy fabric he had been clinging on to and pressed himself back against the wall, hoping his mate would get the hint and move backwards. However his companion didn’t budge, either ignoring the awkwardness of the situation or more afraid that Vegeta would bolt for the door again if he stepped aside.

“Usually people don’t follow me around unless they want to fight me, but the last time I tried to punch one of them, they went flying! I didn’t know they were so weak! So I figured I’d just give them the slip until dinner! I don’t want to get yelled at by that mean old timer anymore!” Kakarot finally answered, speaking swiftly as if that would keep the small Prince’s anger at bay.

‘ _He’s running away from the goddamn servants?! No wonder they were rushing all over the place!’_ Running a hand over his face with a sigh, Vegeta locked eyes with Kakarot and gave a firm push on his shoulder to move him aside. The younger Saiyan still refused to budge though, much to his displeasure.

“Kakarot, I told you before that they are here to help you. If they bother you that much, I will arrange it so that the same person stays with you. Will that make you more comfortable with the idea?” That someone could really be that worked up over a servant following them exasperated the Prince, but the ridiculousness of the situation he had been dragged into did much to dull his anger.

Dark eyes brightened slightly at the suggestion and Kakarot gave Vegeta a small curl of his lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe if it’s just one person I’ll recognize them better!” His lopsided grin spread, transforming into a legitimate smile.

Something about the handsome features so close to him arranged in such a beautiful way brought Vegeta’s ire back to the surface. Planting his gloved hand directly over the offending face and pushing Kakarot backward with his full strength, he finally was free of the offender in his personal space. Crossing his arms in a huff he stared intensely at the wall after glimpsing the pouting look on his partner’s face.

“Next time just tell me if you are having a problem instead of dragging me into a closet over something so inane,” Vegeta bit out, still not looking at his mate. There was a pause of silence that lasted longer than the Prince was expecting, so he risked meeting eyes with the man on the other side of the small space.

Kakarot seemed to be wavering on whether to speak up or not, his previous smile now dissolved into thinly pressed lips and his previous bright eyes marked by confusion and indecision.

“What?” Something about the look made Vegeta snap at him. It was obvious the third class had never been trained to keep his face a neutral mask.

“Well,” he paused and pursed his lips more, “how can I tell you, if I never see you?” Kakarot locked eyes with the Prince for a microsecond before following his lead and staring at the wall.

Taken aback by the unexpected response, Vegeta’s breath caught in his throat at the pitiful sight. But any sentimental feelings were then immediately squashed by the indignation of the accusation that it was his fault that the pair had spent the first week of their lives together almost completely separate so instead of reassuring Kakarot, Vegeta scowled at the fidgeting man before him.

“If you have something to say to me then tell your servant and they’ll get the message to me! It’s not that hard to figure out, Kakarot!” The longer he looked at the petulant Saiyan the more the he could feel his blood boiling. The idea that anyone could reject him and then act as if they were the one being wronged was so repulsive to the Prince that he felt his fist moving forward before he fully realized what he was doing.

Kakarot’s head snapped backwards from the heavy blow, when he met Vegeta’s eyes again he was no longer sulking, but the wounded surprise was not a positive alternative. “What was that for?!” he yelled out, clamping his hands over his nose as a small trickle of blood ran down to his lip.

Wanting to respond that it was for everything, for entering the tournament without realizing the consequences of winning, for getting Vegeta’s hopes up only to crush them with a single misunderstanding, and especially for acting as if it was Vegeta’s responsibility to explain these things to him, he realized that saying any of those things would imply he cared. So instead he growled from the back of his throat, “For being a third class clown!” It seemed to get the sentiment across succinctly.

Wiping the blood on the back of his hand, Kakarot pulled himself to his full height which unfortunately left Vegeta having to resort to crane his head backwards to keep his murderous glare trained on Kakarot’s eyes. His mate took advantage of their size difference to look down his nose at the petite Prince.

“If I understand right, then I think I’m technically a prince now too,” his imposing mate answered with his lips downturned into a frown.

Kakarot didn’t explicitly say it, but Vegeta felt that the implication at the end of that sentence was that he was the clown in this situation. It was as good an excuse as any to punch the man again—so he did just that. Curling his hand into tight underhanded fist, he drove it hard into the annoyance’s stomach and let it remain there for a brief moment, letting the feeling linger, before retracting it. His mate had double-overed and was now eye level with him as intended.

“You’re a prince in title only—inside you’ll always be third class,” Vegeta goaded him with a snide smirk. Body already primed for a fight, he wanted any excuse to pummel the sulking Saiyan at this second in time.

“Then you’ll always be mated to a third class,” Kakarot laughed out, his sarcastic voice wavering from trying to recover from Vegeta’s blow.

That was the point the Prince grew positively livid. That this bastard—this bastard who hadn’t understood what he was getting into—had the nerve to even mention anything about being mated to him was an affront of the highest possible order. Vegeta had no qualms about driving his fist into Kakarot’s stomach again. It felt good, exhilarating even, to vent his anger on the ultimate source of it. Pulling his fist back and aiming this time for the face contorted in pain, he was shocked when his opponent blocked it before it was able to reach its intended target.

Spitting a little blood out of the side of his mouth, Kakarot looked into Vegeta’s eyes with a glint of excitement at the prospect of a fight. He responded by pushing the Prince backwards and following closely after with a punch of his own. Grunting from the impact, Vegeta’s vision ran red at the insolence of his supposed mate. Letting his emotions take control of his actions, he shot his leg out in a forceful front kick that sent Kakarot across the small room and bouncing off the opposite wall from his momentum.

Or maybe the younger fighter had pushed himself off because the next moment he was in Vegeta’s face again, throwing swift strikes which were difficult to dodge in the enclosed space. Ducking down to miss a left hook, the Prince was taken completely off-guard when a strong arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in his lowered position. Before he could react to get out of the compromising hold, Kakarot was wailing blow after blow on his head. Twisting his lower half in response, he hooked his heel behind his captor’s right ankle and then punched Kakarot’s left thigh while simultaneously sweeping the ankle.

As planned, this threw the larger Saiyan off balance enough to Vegeta to be able to slam him sideways, hitting the door with a loud crack. Wrenching his head out of Kakarot’s hold he slammed his hands against the door, pinning his opponent’s arms to their respective sides, and drove his knee into an exposed stomach. The damaged grunt he got in response was such a beautiful sound that kneed Kakarot even harder the second time—unfortunately the door was not built to withstand such punishing blows and splintered under the force being applied to it. One more strike from Vegeta’s knee and the door’s strength buckled sending Kakarot toppling backwards into the hallway and Vegeta falling after him from the sudden loss of counterbalance.

However even falling to the floor with an irate Vegeta atop him, didn’t deter Kakarot from continuing the fight. He was quick to turn the tide to his advantage and rolled over so that the Prince was beneath him and used his knees to hold Vegeta’s arms against the floor. His two fists took turns connecting with Vegeta’s face until the Prince recovered from the shock and remembered to fight back.

Smashing his thighs into Kakarot’s back, the bloodied Prince was able to throw the larger combatant off balance enough to wrench his arms free. Wrapping his ankles around the thick neck of the man atop him and pulling backwards towards the floor, he simultaneously grabbed Kakarot’s wrists and pulled them forward, locking the straining man in a chokehold. He was determined to drain the life out the bastard who had dared called himself Vegeta’s mate. The sight of him straining against the powerful hold on him was one of the loveliest views the Prince has witnessed.

The tall Saiyan was at a disadvantage as Vegeta used his smaller body to try and keep his opponent in place, but Kakarot apparently didn’t know when to quit as he struggled against Vegeta’s grasp on his arms in order to lean back further. Grunting from the effort and lack of oxygen he was finally able to loosen his opponents hold on him. Once he was able to move his legs again, he wasted no time in wrapping them the Prince’s neck in an effort to choke off the royal’s air supply in retaliation. The two of them were deadlocked in the awkward position, both determined not to give up until the other had passed out.

As intent as the two were on killing each other at the moment, their struggle had not gone unnoticed by the servants who had been roaming the hallways looking for the lost Kakarot and it was at this time one of them came scampering along with Mentor Cama in tow. One look at the disheveled pair and he let out a loud cough to break up the fight; when that failed to catch their attention, he lost the little patience he had and sent a small blast at the two struggling to choke each other out.

This finally did the trick as Kakarot yelped and rolled to the side as soon as Vegeta’s grip loosened. Heaving for air, the Prince was first to notice their audience and stood quickly, straightening out his armor and gloves while his face flared the lightest red hue from being caught behaving so childishly. It took his partner a few more moments to realize what was happening before he too snapped to attention beside Vegeta and bowed, then crossed his arms, then held them rigidly at his sides again with his chin high, and finally just glancing nervously between Cama and Vegeta.

“If you two are quite done making asses of yourself follow me,” Cama instructed in a calm, yet stern voice that belied the amount of anger he was experiencing. Nodding glumly, the duo resigned themselves to their fate and followed after the teacher silently.

Vegeta chewed the inside of his lower lip in annoyance as they seemed to be taking the longest route possible to the study Cama occupied. His irritation was mostly aimed at himself, but there was still a large dose directed at the dimwit beside him. If Kakarot hadn’t been doing something as foolish as hiding from the damn staff then he would never have been dragged into that closet or that idiotic conversation. Trying to subdue the pounding in his head by rubbing his temples, he did give his mate a little credit—the man could certainly throw a nasty punch.

Finally they reached their destination and both of the younger Saiyans straightened a little as they entered the study, knowing they were in enough trouble without adding slouching to the list. Once they were all fully inside, Cama closed the door behind them then eyed the pair with icy eyes. His face of perfectly composed features never wavered, even as he suddenly reached out and grabbed both of their heads and smashed them into each other.

Having received too many blows to the head for one day, Vegeta felt he was allowed the small stumble he had in trying to steady himself from the impact of Kakarot’s ridiculously hard head. He looked over at the offender with a glare to see his mate with both hands on his head and tears of pain welling in the corners of his eyes. It made the pained Prince feel a little better—until Cama’s reprimands began.

“May I remind you two that you are princes, not common rabble that can get into random brawls and no one bats an eye over. Not only that, but your announcement ceremony is in three weeks and if this is an indication of how you will behave during that, then I don’t think your ascension to the throne will be as secure as you think it is,” the teacher warned, weariness and disappointment dripping in his voice.

Kakarot mumbled a small apology, but Vegeta stood silent beside him, still rubbing his temples. He stood by his assessment that he was not at fault in the situation and therefore had nothing to apologize for. However his mentor’s accusation that a trivial fight would cost him the throne would have been infuriating if his head didn’t hurt so damn much. Besides, Kakarot didn’t even die. Vegeta added that to the list of things to be angry about later.

“Do you both understand?” Cama calmly inquired.

Glancing up, Vegeta realized his had missed something while brooding. He looked at his partner out of the corner of his eye—the other Saiyan looked blanched, but he seemed to overreact to everything so it was not a reliable indication of how serious the teacher was about whatever he said.

“Kakarot, did you understand?” Vegeta asked, folding his arms over his chest in a show of faux confidence.

“But when you say all the time, do you mean we have to go to the bathroom together and sleep together too?” He shifted back and forth on his feet and eyed Vegeta nervously.

“WHAT?! That is completely preposterous!” the Prince’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets after hearing the timidly asked question and his hands clenched into fists as a reflex. ‘ _Just what the hell did I miss_?’

The mentor sighed and slowly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant,” the disappointment in his voice was palpable. “There will obviously be time you can’t be together; after all you don’t belong in any council meetings at the moment, Kakarot. But if you two keep avoiding each other and then getting in fights when you do meet up, then that’s you’ll ever do. I’m sure the sight of our two leaders trying to choke the life out of each other would amuse some, but it does not inspire confidence in your rule.” He paused to make sure both of them were letting the words sink in. “But if you two can’t at least pretend to get along by the end of a week then I will consider something more extreme.”

The imposing figure looked between the two of them with a cold gaze that didn’t invite arguments. He seemed satisfied with their somber faces and added, “If I hear about any more occurrences like the one earlier, then I will make it my life mission to make your lives miserable.” With a smug smile, he turned and opened the door with a nod of dismissal.

‘ _You’re already doing a fantastic job of that_ ,’ Vegeta thought as he strode out with Kakarot shuffling behind him. The brooding Prince waited until they were far enough away from the study that there was no danger of Cama overhearing before he whirled on his quiet companion.

“I hope you realize this is your fault, Kakarot!” he hissed while poking an accusing finger into the larger man’s chest.

“What? You punched me first!” Kakarot pouted, looking even younger than usual.

“Tch.” Vegeta turned his nose up and his back to Kakarot. He still couldn’t give away any of the thoughts that had led to the fight, so he crossed his arms and walked off. Hearing the other man trailing behind him, Vegeta addressed him over his shoulder.

“I have to meet with my father. Go bother someone else for a while.”

“But he said we had to spend all our time together! I mean, all of our free time anyway.” The man behind him protested with a small hint of fear in his voice. Not that Vegeta blamed him; their mutual mentor could be rather imposing when he fixed his stony gaze on you. But as intimidating as he could be in person, he wasn’t here right now and therefore couldn’t actually impose his orders on the two.

“He said it didn’t have to be all of our time, just most. Besides what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I don’t need you making a fool of yourself in front of my father,” Vegeta ground his teeth together at the thought of what the other man would potentially say.

“No.” It was said so assuredly, that Vegeta actually paused in his tracks, surprised at the way his mate could rapidly switch between moods.

“No?” he asked, turning to scrutinize Kakarot’s face—he didn’t seem mad or afraid, just very convinced that he wasn’t going to let Vegeta out of his sight. His companion’s dark eyes were staring at him with a serious but uncharacteristically unreadable expression. “And what are you going to do about it, Kakarot?”

“I’m going with you. That’s what I’m supposed to do,” Kakarot answered, his lips tightening ever so slightly while he waited for Vegeta’s reply.

The Prince himself almost wanted to yell at his almost-mate, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure if it was the sudden confidence that the other Saiyan hadn’t displayed since the tournament or that his head still ached too much to argue about it. Rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head, Vegeta turned and set off for the King’s office again. An almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he heard footsteps fall into rhythm behind him. ‘ _Fine, let my father see what an embarrassment you are. Maybe you’ll even fuck up enough that he sends you to another planet like Tarble_.’

Even though the proud Prince was accustomed to people following him, there was something annoying about the way Kakarot’s boots loudly tapped against the marbled floors. His own footsteps were nearly silent in comparison as he strode through the hallways. But the clunking behind him didn’t cease or lessen, just continued on in a steady pace that made Vegeta’s head throb. Wanting to put some distance between the annoyance and him, the irritated Prince slightly sped up. After a few seconds of a mismatched rhythm, Kakarot was able to adjust again and fell in step once more.

With a short snort, Vegeta quickened his pace even further, a silent challenge for the lagging man to keep up. It only took a few moments for Kakarot to match him, the clamor of his boots growing louder as a result. ‘ _So he wants to test me? I can oblige,’_ the Prince thought with a smirk. A little faster again, knocking at the threshold of running, and still the young man followed along right in tow. They continued on that way until the next intersection of hallways and Vegeta came to a complete halt, leaning back on his heels to offset the sudden change of momentum.

His game seemed to have worked as he heard Kakarot stumble to a stop behind him. The larger Saiyan must have had a harder time of it as he seemed to be right at Vegeta’s back. The petite Prince could feel the intense body heat radiating off his companion and could just barely sense Kakarot’s breath as it moved the stray strands of his upturned locks. Lingering in that closeness was absolutely out of the question and with a small twitch of his lip, he ran off at full speed, not listening for the thundering of Kakarot’s footfalls because there was no doubt in his mind that the idiot was already right behind him.

Ignoring the strange looks the pair of them received as they ran through the castle, they kept that pace all the way until skidding to a stop in front of the large doors to the King’s office. This time, however, Kakarot didn’t quite catch himself in time and had to place a steading hand on Vegeta’s shoulder to avoid bowling over the short Prince.

Looking up at the oaf in annoyance, Vegeta opened his mouth to reprimand his mate for daring to touch him, but Kakarot just grinned down at him and laughed. Just a simple expression of amusement and nothing more, like their jaunt through the halls had been a game to him instead of Vegeta trying to escape him. Pressing his lips back together into a smirk, he assured himself that the mirthful feelings in the back of his mind were due to a jab at Kakarot’s simplemindedness and nothing more. Looking down to grab the handle of the heavy door, he gave his mate one more glance—merely to check if he was composed—before collecting himself and opening the door.

Although his father didn’t question it, the eyebrow raised in surprise over Kakarot’s presence said enough. Vegeta choose to ignore it though, and instead held his arms behind his back and his chin high.

“Father, you wanted to discuss the upcoming ceremony?” he stated succinctly, wanting this to run as shortly as possible due to their present company.

Nodding, the King started going over the particulars that Vegeta didn’t have much interest in, such as color schemes, speeches to be made, outfits that would be custom made for them, and the menu list. The last one seemed to be of great interest to his silent shadow though as each food named made Kakarot fidget more and more until finally a loud growl erupted from his stomach. King Vegeta looked up in shock at the stomach’s sudden interjection and the Prince covered his face with a hand in mortification.

Expecting the larger man to simply laugh it off as normal, Vegeta was surprised to hear him utter a coherent apology for the distraction. Letting his hand fall from his face, he wondered if there was some semblance of sense in Kakarot’s head after all.

“Kakarot, since you’re here, why don’t we go over the guest list as well? Your family will present, correct? I’m sure they are proud of your accomplishment,” the King addressed him with a courteous smile.

“Ah, I think so,” Kakarot poked at the floor with the toe of his boot, “I haven’t actually talked to them since all this happened.” He scratched the back of his head and let out a rueful laugh.

Both of the royals looked shocked by the admission, but the King was the first to gain his composure and speak up.

“Well a lot has happened and I’m sure it just slipped your mind. But do get in touch with them soon, we should meet before the ceremony occurs so that any questions can be answered,” he instructed with a tone that was a tad softer than his normal voice. The Prince briefly wondered if was out of pity or an actual concern, but dismissed the idea as the King moved on to other details of the ceremony that seemed inconsequential to him.

They spoke, or perhaps listened as it was mainly the King talking, for a great while longer until the patriarch seemed satisfied with the decisions that mainly he had come up with. Although pretending to pay attention, Vegeta was often casting sideways glances at the man beside him. Other than the earlier embarrassment, Kakarot had not uttered a word after speaking of his family nor had he done anything else to make an ass of himself. He had simply stood quietly next to Vegeta and listened politely.

If he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes, the Prince would have never believed it possible that this was the same man he had eaten dinner with only a week ago. The etiquette lessons he was sent to seemed to have had a positive effect on him already, much to Vegeta’s surprise. Even though his face didn’t reflect it, on the inside he was frowning at the way Kakarot continued to surprise him. Obviously he hadn’t spent much time with his mate for his own reasons, but now the prospect of spending the next week together didn’t seem as nerve-racking as it had before. If he could smile even though they had tried to kill each other earlier and he could act civil now, there might be other interesting things to learn about him.

‘ _Maybe…maybe_.’ But even though he had just been intrigued by the prospect of getting to know Kakarot better, now he suddenly shirked from it without tangible reason. Stealing a quick peek out of the corner of his eye at the silent Saiyan, he pushed it from his mind and looked back at his father instead.

“One last thing before you two leave,” King Vegeta leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands neatly atop each other on his desk, “I assume that I don’t need to worry about any further incidents like whatever happened in the hallway? I don’t care what you two do in private, but when in public act like the royalty you are.” He didn’t wait for a response, dismissing the pair with a small nod and wave of his hand.

As soon as the door closed behind them, another growl erupted from Kakarot’s belly; though this time he did laugh a little as he held his hand behind his head. Vegeta rolled his eyes and jerked his head in the direction of the dining hall, a small smile flitting across his lips as he considered running the whole way—of course he dismissed the idea, but just the thought amused him anyway.

They didn’t talk during their trip, but as they sat down at the table laden with food, Vegeta couldn’t help but bring up something that had been nagging at him.

“Kakarot, why haven’t you talked to your family since the tournament?” he asked, taking a small bite out of the meat dish before him.

 

His companion swallowed and laughed nervously, “Well I didn’t know what to say. It’s strange, right?” He tittered again unsteadily, but didn’t elaborate. “I was actually trying to go see them today. That’s why I ran from the servants.”

Vegeta blinked, trying to process this new information. “You don’t have to run away to see them, you could have just gone if you wanted,” he replied slowly, frustrated that he had to keep explaining this.

“But I wanted to go alone and that guy kept following me anyway!” Kakarot took a large bite out of his steak and chewed with a frown.

“Why did you need to go alone?” Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the confession; was his mate’s family political somehow? It hadn’t shown up in the intelligence reports, but they may quietly support some faction.

“I wanted to talk to them in private. Explain things.”

Vegeta wanted to have understanding for him, but his brain was wired for suspicion instead of compassion. “What kind of things? Are you ashamed, Kakarot?” He felt that he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

“Ah, no, it’s not that. I just don’t know what to think of everything yet and I wanted to talk to them. Alone,” he added as an afterthought.

Looking down at his plate, Vegeta couldn’t meet eyes with the other man as he thought about what that might mean. Kakarot was not an eloquent man to begin with, but every mention of their mating would shut him down. There was a sudden misgiving in the Prince’s mind and he voiced it before he could fully think about it.

“Is there someone else?”

Kakarot looked around the room before settling his gaze on Vegeta once more, “Someone where?”

Exhaling forcefully, Vegeta had to keep himself from growling at the idiotic response, “Someone else you wanted to be mated with.”

Looking startled, the young Saiyan seemed to shrink into himself at the accusation. But he slowly shook his head, “No, I never really thought about it before, you know?” He fidgeted nervously under Vegeta’s scrutiny for a few moments before standing and scratching the back of his head, “I’m not really hungry anymore, so I’ll see you tomorrow, Vegeta!” Giving one last awkward laugh, he hurriedly left the dining room with a slight heated tint to his skin.

Vegeta sat in his chair and contemplated the food before him as if it would give him insight into the other man’s mind. While part of him was glad that it wasn’t a conflict of interests holding Kakarot back, it also implied that his rejection was on a more personal level. Raising his glass to his lips, Vegeta let his eyes slide closed as he drank deeply of the rich spirit. He didn’t protest Kakarot breaking Cama’s order when it was convenient for him; it just felt good not to be the one running off after their conversations for once.

 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

After the awkward conversation at dinner, Vegeta hadn’t been sure what to expect when he went to breakfast the next morning. More reticence, maybe anger or sullenness? But as he looked at the empty chair where Kakarot had been sitting last night, he realized he hadn’t been expecting the other man to start avoiding him. He chewed his food slowly, prolonging his breakfast in case Kakarot was just dawdling. But as the hour drew late, Vegeta decided he wasn’t going to wait around forever for the idiot.

Throwing his napkin on the table, Vegeta called his servant over, “Where is Kakarot?” His fingers drummed angrily on the table as the petite female whispered over her scouter.

“Prince Kakarot is in the courtyard, your highness,” the woman relayed with a bow.

“And what the hell is he doing there?” Vegeta growled out.

“He’s meeting with a member of his family, sire,” she answered calmly.

Vegeta sat in contemplation for a moment. Was Kakarot really so dead set on speaking to his family alone that he would wake up early enough to arrange a private meeting when he knew Vegeta would be at breakfast? He hadn’t spoken of any plans last night before walking out of dinner, so Vegeta had no reason to believe this reunion was scheduled before then. Wondering if he should give the man some privacy, Vegeta’s curiosity won out and he left the table to find Kakarot.

Each step Vegeta took towards the garden added a small bit of guilt to his conscious. Spying on his future mate certainly wouldn’t give the man any more reason to trust him. But then again his father had told Kakarot to invite his relatives over so they could all meet, so Vegeta was just going to give his future extended family a royal welcome; and Cama’s instructions were to spend as much time together as possible, so he was merely obeying his teacher’s wishes. He flatly ignored the voice in his head that implied he was jealous that Kakarot wanted to spend time with someone other than him.

Lingering in the archway that led to the private gardens, Vegeta debated on which direction his next step should be. He could still go back, attend to some paperwork, forget all about this and leave Kakarot in peace. But he found himself moving forward regardless of those thoughts and peering into the courtyard. A quick scan of the area was all it took to spot Kakarot and a man with incredibly long hair sitting on a bench together at the other side of the garden.

They hadn’t spotted him yet so Vegeta stayed pressed against the wall watching the pair. Kakarot had a bashful look on his face and was speaking quickly to the other man, who Vegeta vaguely recognized as his mate’s brother. The brother was grinning and gesturing with his hands as he spoke; he laughed and a genuine smile spread over Kakarot’s fair face. There was a tightness in Vegeta’s chest and he realized he had been holding his breath, too afraid to make a sound and be caught spying. It was the first time he had seen Kakarot smile like that since the day they had met and the realization—he couldn’t describe it. Was he sad? Angry that this man could make Kakarot smile but as the crown Prince of the planet, he couldn’t? Annoyed that he even bothered to notice?

He slid back around the corner and pressed his back to the warm stones of the archway. Noticing that his hands were trembling for some reason, Vegeta clenched them into tight fists at his sides. His teeth ground together as a wave of anger rose within him. Why did he care about what Kakarot did with his family anyway? He was obviously telling his brother how much he hated it here and how annoyed he was that he would have to become Vegeta’s mate. Maybe they were even talking about some other love interest Kakarot had and he had lied about never wanting to mate without someone else before. His feet moved of their own accord and he was crossing the courtyard to put an end to their little talk.

Kakarot noticed him first and said something to his brother who turned and smirked when he saw the Prince approaching. Vegeta’s jaw tightened even more somehow. How dare this nobody smirk at him! He stopped in front of the two and crossed his arms, a stoic mask now covering the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Kakarot.” Vegeta nodded at him and turned to look his brother up and down with a calculated gaze. “And you are?” He would make the low class _smirker_ explain himself.

“Raditz. I’m Kakarot’s brother.” Raditz stood and dwarfed Vegeta. Bowing with another smirk, he still managed to be eye-level with the Prince even fully bent over. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Not that he had held any sort of warm feelings for the man before, but Vegeta really didn’t like him now. ‘ _How dare he tower over me and smirk down at his prince like he’s worthy to even step foot in this garden! He didn’t even address me properly!_ ’ But Vegeta displayed none of his annoyance on his face, instead nodding slightly in acknowledgement.

“Raditz,” Vegeta repeated the name even though it left a sour taste in his mouth, “what brings you to the castle grounds today? Are you here to discuss the mating?” He felt the need to remind them both of the only reason either of them were allowed on the royal private property.

“You could say that,” he winked at his brother. “Kakarot was just telling me all about it.” Raditz sat back down on the bench and folded his arms behind his head while stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Vegeta had to fight the urge not to put a fist through the smug face. Instead he looked at Kakarot to see if he cared to elaborate on the statement. The younger Saiyan looked pensive about the situation and Vegeta was incredibly curious to find out what exactly he had been saying to his brother.

“Did you have questions?” Vegeta inquired, hoping it would lead to some revelation of their previous conversation.

“Yeah.” Raditz chuckled and looked at his brother with a wolfish expression. “I was wondering why you haven’t popped my little brother open yet.”

All the color drained from Kakarot’s face and he punched Raditz in the arm—forceful enough to send the tall man toppling off the bench in a fit of laughter. Glancing quickly at Vegeta with an expression of distress, he turned back to glare at his brother.

“Excuse me?” Vegeta questioned, cheeks flaming and pulse quickening at the crass inquiry.  He had a very clear image in his mind of what Raditz had meant, but he wanted to make sure before he ventured further down that road.

The long mane of the older Saiyan shook as Raditz let out a bellowing laugh. “Why haven’t you made my little brother a man yet? I’m sure a good, hard tussle in the sheets would make both of you feel a lot better!”

“Raditz!” Diving off the bench with red cheeks, Kakarot landed on his fallen brother and let loose a volley of punches. The older brother just continued laughing as he defended himself from the blows.

Vegeta watched the display with a raised eyebrow. Of all the things that Kakarot had told his family, the fact that they hadn’t fucked yet was among them? But considering the vulgarity already displayed by his brother, it was probably the first thing the older one had asked about. His lips twitched into a frown. Was Kakarot’s reaction an indication that he wanted to do that or was he so opposed to the idea that he was in disbelief that it had been brought up? As the two continued to scuffle, Vegeta let out a sigh of annoyance. He wasn’t going to get any answers this way.

“Enough.” He stated in his most regal voice. Kakarot’s hand froze in midair and the brothers both turned to look at him. “Kakarot, get up.” He rolled his eyes that the idiot had already forgotten that fighting was what got them in trouble yesterday. He watched the two brothers stand and readjust their skewed armor. He cleared his throat, aware that they were both watching him closely now.

“We’re not officially mated yet. It would improper to engage in those activities.” Vegeta said flatly. The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could spout tradition all he wanted, but he would have gladly welcomed his mate into his bed when they first met. Now the thought of it made him anxious and he didn’t want to investigate the feelings that caused that.

Raditz snickered at his answer and winked down at his brother. “Maybe the Prince is just nervous, Kakarot. Perhaps I should give him a few lessons myself before I turn him over to you.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and smiled a toothy grin.

“Shut up, Raditz!” Hissed Kakarot as he grabbed onto the other’s tail and squeezed it—bringing his goliath brother to his knees.

The tall Saiyan slapped his brother’s hand away and stood back up. His smirk now a dour frown, he closed his eyes and held his chin up in the air. “I was just offering for your sake. Such an ungrateful brat.”

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose, this awkward conversation testing his patience in unforeseen ways. He was frankly amazed that he hadn’t murdered Raditz for the comment, the knowledge that killing his mate’s family wouldn’t reflect well on him the only thing that stilled his hand. Letting out a long sigh, he focused his rage into the back of his mind.

“If there are no intelligent questions then I will take my leave. Kakarot, I want you in my training chambers before dinner.” Vegeta said, turning to leave the two dolts to their own devices.

Raditz let out a soft whistle. “Looks like you’re going to get a pounding after all!” he snickered under his breath.

A growl was the only warning Vegeta gave as he spun to throw a punch at the offending joker. But his well-aimed punch wouldn’t reach the chest of Raditz, as Kakarot stepped in at the last second and took the blow for his brother. The impact of Vegeta’s fist to his mate’s face sent the younger man toppling against Raditz and they both stumbled backwards. The Prince’s eyes widened at the unexpected protection Kakarot gave his brother. He felt caught in an even more awkward position now: did he leave as originally intended or should he give some sort of consolation since Raditz would most likely report this to Kakarot’s family? Thankfully the brash voice of his true target made the decision a lot easier.

“Are you trying to kill my brother?” Raditz growled at him, glaring safely from behind Kakarot.

“He’s not so weak that he would die from that!” Vegeta snapped at the other and reached out to his mate to remove Kakarot’s hands from his nose. Carefully putting pressure on the swollen tissue, he frowned as Kakarot winced under his touch. There was a lot of blood, but it didn’t seem to be broken—honestly he was sure he had damaged it much worse in their scuffle yesterday. Glancing up at Kakarot’s black eyes, he felt hot under the questioning stare that he was receiving. Pulling his hand back and crossing his arms, Vegeta shrugged as if it was nothing.

“It will heal just fine. I still expect you for a spar later.” His eyes turned to Raditz and the corner of his mouth turned down. “Good day.” It was all he could manage to say without his skin crawling, so he left it at that and quickly exited the garden for anywhere else in the castle.

As he trudged through the hallways replaying the encounter, he heard steps running towards him. He rolled his eyes, not really wanting to deal with his mate anymore right now. Speeding up, he tried to make it clear that he wanted to be left alone. But against all his desires, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Kakarot, I don’t want--” The words died in his throat as he saw whose face was smiling back at him when he turned around.

“Ah, Kakarot! That’s your mate, right? Where is he?” The young prince looked around for signs of the mentioned Saiyan.

“Tarble!” Vegeta swallowed his surprise and recomposed himself. “What are you doing here?”

Tarble smiled and leaned into his brother for a quick hug before Vegeta removed him. “I heard about your mate and wanted to be here for your ceremony!” His wide, expressive eyes were lit up with excitement.

Vegeta snorted softly. It was just like his brother to get worked up over something like this instead of fighting. He had hoped that being sent to another planet would have toughened up his younger brother, but it seemed like he still retained his childish exuberance. As if having a mate was so wonderful! His eyes narrowed at the thought and he tilted his head almost imperceptibly.

“How did you know that I was getting mated?” He asked even though he was sure of the answer.

“Father sent me word and told me to come home as soon as possible! I would like to meet him and give him my best wishes!” Tarble’s face glowed with excitement as Vegeta’s darkened. Of course his father had sent for the youngest prince, having him in the castle would serve as the perfect reminder for Vegeta that his succession depended on going through with the ceremony.

“He’s busy at the moment,” Vegeta answered tersely. “Perhaps you can join us for dinner though.”

Tarble looked up at him in concern. “Is something wrong, Vegeta?”

The younger prince placed a hand on his arm and Vegeta was quick to remove it as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nothing. There is a lot of work to do before the ceremony and it has kept us both occupied. There are still other matters that need my attention as well.” He nodded a quick farewell and stalked off to brood about the king’s machinations further.

He only got a few steps before Tarble pulled on his arm again.

“Wait, brother! I’ve come all the way to see you and you’re running off already! I want to talk to you!” Tarble’s mouth formed into a thin pout.

Vegeta sighed, uncrossing his arms and letting his shoulders sag. He didn’t really have anywhere he needed to be at the moment and if it weren’t for the current situation with Kakarot he’d be more enthusiastic about spending time with Tarble. The image of Kakarot stepping in to take the blow for his brother crossed his mind and he didn’t doubt that Tarble would have done the same for him. It had been years since they last spoke in person, he could spare a few moments of his time. Waving his hand in an invitation to follow, he led them to his office and motioned for his brother to take a seat in one of the plush chairs.

“Father told me that your mate was stronger than even Nappa!” Tarble immediately broke into an excited grin. “Is he stronger than you too?”

“Tch. Not hardly.” Vegeta scowled at the question, but wondered if it was possible that his mate could surpass him one day. His finger tapped against his bicep at the idea.

“What’s he like then? Tell me about him!” His younger brother’s enthusiasm would have been catching if only Vegeta could be excited about his mate. Eyebrows sloping downward in thought, he tried to decide how much information to give.

“Kakarot is…strong.” That was a safe start. “He fights well but tends to leave his guard down.” Tarble looked at him expectantly and his brain scrambled to think of anything else to say about the idiot. He was childish but had acted respectfully in front of the king. He was withdrawn at times but had protected his brother.

“He’s,” Vegeta’s mouth twisted as he searched for the right word to describe the strange Saiyan, “complicated.”

Tarble’s head tilted to the side and he leaned forward. “What do you mean? What’s so complicated about him?”

Even though the chair he was sitting in was literally made for a prince, Vegeta was suddenly very uncomfortable. It was too unbecoming of him to have to admit that he really didn’t know Kakarot well enough to comment on him. The few conversations they had shared usually ended with one of them running away. The scant information he did know about the man had come from his official file. He cleared his throat and avoided his brother’s inquisitive gaze.

“Vegeta, are you telling me you’re going to mate with someone you don’t even know?” The usually calm voice now had a shocked timbre to it.

“Of course I know him!” Vegeta roared louder than necessary.

“Hm, what’s his favorite food?”

“Roasted malab!”

“That’s _your_ favorite food.” Tarble’s eyes and mouth were set in a disappointed frown.

Vegeta held his chin up and glared at the ceiling. “We have good taste.” His eyebrow twitched as he recalled the uncouth way Kakarot had eaten during their first dinner—could the man even taste the difference between foods enough to have a favorite?

“So what if I don’t know his favorite food? He is strong and that’s all I need to know.”

The look of deep concern on his brother’s face was a clear indication of how pleased he was with that answer. Vegeta rubbed his temples with a sigh. This was why Tarble wasn’t cut out to be the next king—he didn’t understand that love wasn’t needed to have a mate. Kakarot’s strength would bring strong children and ensure that the Vegeta line stayed in power. That was what was important. Not what his favorite food was.

“Vegeta, I think you would be happier if you were mated to someone you loved.” Tarble whispered the observation and stared at his hands as they fidgeted in his lap.

Ignoring the obvious statement Vegeta shifted in his seat, straightening and regaining his composure. “I don’t have time for love. Our ritual is in three weeks and our current situation doesn’t hold much hope for ‘love’.” His neutral mask stayed perfectly in place even though he felt a twitch in his chest at the thought.

“But why?”

“This is a political arrangement, Tarble. I just need him to stand at my side during ceremonies. I don’t need or want his affection.” The twitch panged harder.

Tarble looked absolutely dejected as he slumped in his chair. The young prince was idealistic and too soft-hearted—qualities that Vegeta had thought would have been stamped out by now but seemed to have taken deeper root. Perhaps the inhabitants of whatever planet he was residing on were making him even softer. However the conversation was draining Vegeta’s patience and he didn’t feel like hearing any more commentary on his relationship.

“We can speak more at dinner and you can meet Kakarot. I need to finish some work here now.” He steeled his gaze on Tarble, letting it silently be known that it wasn’t up for debate. Talking about his failures was never a favorite pastime for the prince.

“Fine. I’ll see you later, brother. I’ll find Kakarot on my own.” His eyes twinkled and he dashed out the door as Vegeta’s mouth dropped open. He hesitated for only a moment before bolting from his chair and rushing into the hallway. Looking left and right he saw no sign of Tarble—when had his brother become so quick? Vegeta would have been proud if he wasn’t consumed by distress over what his brother might say to Kakarot. Or worse, what if that god awful Raditz was still lingering around and said something foul to his little brother? His mouth pressed into a determined frown and he stormed off to the gardens, assuming Kakarot couldn’t have gone far from the area in the short time he’d been with Tarble.

XXXXX

Vegeta wasn’t sure what it was about Kakarot that attracted nosey brothers to him, but sure enough, Tarble was there speaking to him with a grin on his face. Tail twisting around his waist to fight off the desire to lash behind him in irritation, Vegeta strode towards the pair. As he glanced around he was relieved that at least Raditz seemed to be gone.

“Ah, Vegeta! You made time for us after all!”  Tarble grinned from ear to ear and his tail swung lazily behind him. “I was just introducing myself to your mate!” He motioned towards Kakarot as if Vegeta could possibly forget.

“Tarble, what do you think you’re doing?” Vegeta growled warningly at his brother, not liking the overly playful air the young prince gave off. However Tarble’s grin somehow managed to grow and he turned back to Kakarot.

“My brother told me he was too busy to talk to me, but as soon as I mentioned I was going to talk to you, he came out here right away! He must be really worried about what I’m going to say to you! I hope he hasn’t been treating you poorly!”

“Poorly?! He is going to be mated to the Crown Prince and he isn’t even interested!” Vegeta exploded at the accusation that he would treat his mate as anything less than his equal. Kakarot could have anything if he asked and Vegeta certainly didn’t feel like the deficit in their relationship was from his side.

“Vegeta...that’s not fair….” Kakarot cast his eyes downward, expression clouded and unreadable.

“Oh? You don’t like Vegeta, Kakarot? I know he can seem mean sometimes, but he’s actually nice underneath.”

“That’s enough of your interference, Tarble. Kakarot, come with me. We’re going to have our spar early.”

Kakarot’s eyes lit back up at the suggestion and he nodded. Bowing to Tarble, he followed after Vegeta’s retreating figure.

“We’ll finish this conversation at dinner!” The youngest prince called out after them. Vegeta snorted at the thought and lifted his hand in the air as a farewell, not bothering to look back.

“Ah, your brother seems nice.” Kakarot mumbled as they left the gardens.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the statement, wondering if it was an insinuation that he wasn’t. His arms crossed his chest without a conscious thought. He had been prepared to be nice to Kakarot. Had praised him throughout the tournament—had been looking forward to mating with him. It wasn’t his fault that Kakarot didn’t want the same thing. Didn’t want him. He had tried enough, hadn’t he?

Vegeta’s pace slowed until he came to a standstill. Kakarot hovered behind him just a few steps back.

“Kakarot, what’s your favorite food?” He turned to look at his mate’s face, his own staying in a frown.

“Huh? Oh, I guess I would say grilled sifa is my favorite!” His blank expression had morphed into a bright smile at the mention.

“Hm.” Vegeta couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of disappointment that they did not share the same favorite food. He tried to think of something else to say—some kind of follow up that would make the question less awkward than it was.

“What’s… what’s your favorite food?” Kakarot’s smile had become more reserved now and Vegeta fought not to let it affect him.

“Roasted malab.”

“Mmm, that’s good too! I think almost all foods are my favorites!” He laughed and it was almost the same as when he had been talking to Raditz. Vegeta couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, feeling justified in his opinion that Kakarot had a poor palate. Peering around the taller man, Vegeta waved over the servant that had been silently trailing them.

“We will be having grilled sifa and roasted malab for dinner. Ensure there is enough prepared for Kakarot, Tarble and myself.” The servant nodded and scurried back a respectful distance before muttering into their scouter. Vegeta looked back at his mate to find Kakarot watching him with the same soft smile as before. He had to look away—it was ridiculous but the look made his cheeks feel hot for some reason. He jerked his head in the direction of his training room and walked off but his steps were lighter now. They traveled the rest of the way in silence, except for the tapping of Kakarot’s boots on the floor, but even Kakarot’s strides seemed more relaxed than before.

As they entered the room, Vegeta thought about bringing in a few Saibamen to spice up their training but decided against it. He wanted it to be just the two of them fighting, no distractions. Kakarot looked around the domed room with a curious look on his face before stopping in the middle and grinning.

“We haven’t had a real fight in a while. I’m looking forward to it!” Kakarot sunk into a relaxed stance and waited for Vegeta to do the same.

“Agreed. I hope you haven’t gotten weak from all the studying you’ve been doing, Kakarot.” He sneered at his opponent and the fight began. Vegeta batted aside punches and kicks, letting Kakarot warm up before using his real strength. His mate’s movements were much more fluid and controlled compared to their tussle in the closet. The thought of a real fight made his blood sing and he responded by sending Kakarot flying across the room with a perfectly timed punch to the chest. It was only a matter of seconds before they were back together locked in an exchange of blows—Vegeta’s excitement growing the longer it lasted.

Even if there was no love between them, Vegeta felt proud to have such a strong mate. But Kakarot was not only powerful; there was a certain craftiness to his fighting as well. He was adapting to attacks and keeping Vegeta on his toes despite the difference in their strength—all while keeping an excited grin on his face. A satisfied smirk mirrored it on the prince’s face and he regretted not asking Kakarot to spar with him sooner.  He didn’t go all out as he had intended, instead matching his strength to his mate’s to keep it interesting.

Their fight continued for hours until they both began to show sure signs of fatigue. Armor cracked and undersuits ripped, both Saiyans stood panting and readying themselves for what they knew would be the final attack. Vegeta gulped in air, surprised that Kakarot had been able to push him back this much. It seemed that his mate hadn’t been slacking off after all—making Vegeta crave for another match even though this one had yet to be decided. His eyes raked over Kakarot’s form: he was favoring his right leg and his left arm was held closely to his side. The prince was worn down from the bout but not overly injured.

“Come on, Kakarot. The next strike takes the match!” His smirk stretched across his face, his victory assured in his mind.

“Are you that ready to lose?” A cheeky laugh sounded between gasps of air.

Vegeta didn’t bother to respond, instead rushing ahead with the intent of attacking from the left and ending it cleanly. Kakarot began his charge as well, clearly trying to protect the side that Vegeta had his sights on. The prince’s leg stretched out to deliver a kick to Kakarot’s ribs, but his opponent was able to twist his body and block with his good hand in time—however this left his upper body unguarded temporarily and Vegeta raised a fist to capitalize on the moment. His body moved from pure muscle memory, but as soon as he realized he was aiming for Kakarot’s nose once more, Vegeta hesitated. That split second of indecisiveness was all it too for his opponent to recover and punch him squarely in the chest.

Staggering back from the blow, Vegeta stared in a daze at the satisfied grin on his mate’s face. He should have won. Why had he held back? After all the damage he had inflicted on Kakarot the last two days, what difference would a broken nose have made? Had he gone soft?

“That was a good fight!” Kakarot was now beside him, wincing as he stretched his injured arm.

“Yes….” He replayed the moment in his head. Determining that trying to figure out the cause of his inaction would lead him to a dissection of his feelings, he decided to ignore that train of thought and just move forward.  “You fought well.”

The excited winner beamed from the compliment and scratched the back of his head.  “Thanks, Vegeta. I know you could have beaten me easy, but I had a lot of fun going against you.”

Vegeta smiled. Then he realized he was smiling and covered it with a short cough into his glove. His face once again neutral, he looked over himself and his companion again.

“Let’s go to the healing pods. We’ve been fighting for longer than I thought and by the time you are healed we can have dinner.” He led them the short distance to the medical room and instructed the doctor to take care of Kakarot.

“Will you require healing as well, your majesty?”

Vegeta watched Kakarot pull the armor off his chest and shook his head. “I’m fine.  Kakarot received the worst of it.” His mate chuckled at the statement and began peeling out of his undersuit. When the sight of his chiseled chest came into view Vegeta had to turn away. He had a distinct memory of the last time they were in this situation and he felt even more inappropriate looking at the naked man now that he knew the attraction was not mutual. He blinked. Had he really just called it an attraction? It was definitely time to leave.

“I’m going to shower and change. I’ll see you in the dining hall when you’re ready, Kakarot.” He started to walk off but was stopped short by his mate calling his name. Turning his head slightly to show he was listening, but not enough to see Kakarot, he paused. Fate seemed to be against him today as the younger man eagerly bounded into his view.

“I just wanted to say thanks.” His mate was right in front of him, smiling softly and completely undressed.

“For what?” Vegeta grunted, struggling to keep his eyes on the other man’s face.

“For not punching me in the nose again. I know you were going to. You should have won the match.”

The prince frowned, unsure how to react to the conversation. “I didn’t follow through and lost. The win is yours.”

“If you say so, but I’d like a rematch to decide it.” There was a movement and he looked down to see Kakarot holding out a hand to him. It was a millimeter shift of his gaze and all of that toned body was in view. Vegeta held his breath at the sight and quickly gave the offered hand a firm shake before he was able to tear his gaze back to Kakarot’s still smiling face.

“Of course. I’ll speak to you at dinner about it.” He mumbled and moved around Kakarot to exit the room in a rush. Not breaking his quick pace until he reached his bedroom, Vegeta closed the door behind him and slumped against it. It was still there, perfectly etched in his mind’s eye. His cheeks tinted and his breath hitched as he recalled the pale skin taut over prominent muscles, a sheen of sweat still visible, and between those thick thighs….

Pushing off the door he pulled off his armor and undersuit, heading straight for a cool shower. He felt like a child going through puberty again—he’d seen plenty of men and women naked before, why should he react so much to Kakarot? The cold water worked well to take the heat out of his body but unfortunately couldn’t erase the memory. Vegeta let his head fall forward into the stream of water. Kakarot was his mate and eventually they would be expected to produce a child. Which meant—no, he pushed the thought from his mind. According to his medical examination Kakarot was a child-bearer, but even if he wasn’t the Saiyans had technology to make up for that. So there was no real reason for them to even have sex.  

Vegeta stood back up and began to wash himself. If he ever felt the need he could find some sterile concubine to keep him company—if his father was so worried about illegitimate heirs. He’d been fine on his own until now—his fingers dug into his scalp—he could keep fueling that energy into his training.

The suds were rinsed from his body and the thoughts from his mind. He’d be fine. Just because a mate suddenly came into the picture didn’t mean his self-control would crumble. He’d be fine. It had just been Kakarot’s fault for stopping him; otherwise he wouldn’t have even looked at the man. From now on Kakarot could walk himself to the medical room. He would be fine.

After turning off the cold water he stepped out and dried himself. Now that the issue of the consequences of sparring with Kakarot had been addressed, his next concern was Tarble. Vegeta couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling with a sigh at the thought of his brother. The brat seemed more than happy to interfere when not needed—it was bad enough that his presence alone was an insult to Vegeta, then he had to meddle on top of it. Spending the day with Kakarot had actually been enjoyable—except for the awkward moment at the end perhaps—but who knew what effect the younger prince would have on their already strained relationship. Exhaling deeply, he made his way to the dining hall to get it over with and find out.

XXXXX

The scene in at the dining table was much like it had been that morning: Vegeta sat alone, waiting for the others to show up. His fingers drummed the table, hating to have to wait for the second time that day. At least this time he was sure they would show up—or at least Tarble would. He certainly wouldn’t miss an opportunity to tease his older brother. Kakarot would surely come though. Vegeta gulped down his drink. There was no way he could have noticed Vegeta’s gaze and decided to retreat from the situation once again. That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

The door opened and the prince shot up straight in his chair as he held his breath. Seeing the small figure of his brother however, he relaxed again.

“Where’s Kakarot?” Tarble asked while taking an empty chair across from his brother.

“I left him in the healing tank. He may still be there.” Vegeta answered as if it was no concern of his. Tarble’s eyes widened and lines of concern furrowed in his forehead.

“What did you do to him that you had to heal him? I thought you two were just going to spar!”

Vegeta scoffed, “That’s all we did. They weren’t serious injuries but I can’t have my mate walking around vulnerable.”

“If you know you’re stronger than him then you should go easy on him.” The young Saiyan pouted in his chair, still too soft for his own good.

“It would be an insult to his strength to hold back against him.”

Tarble seemed to perk up at the statement and suddenly looked much more interested in the conversation.

“You must like him a lot then to praise him. I’ve never heard you talk that way about anyone else!”

“That’s because you’re never here to hear me talk about anyone else.” Vegeta batted away the accusation with a casual remark.

Tarble chewed his lip, probably trying to think of a way to twist it to his advantage again. Luckily the door opened once more and Vegeta didn’t know whether to be relieved or more anxious that it actually was Kakarot this time. His mate grinned and made his way to the table with a quickened pace.

“I guess you banged me up more than they thought! I had to stay in there a long time!” Kakarot laughed at the statement, seeming to enjoy the thought of it more than be offended by it. Tarble flashed his brother a glare, but Vegeta ignored it. All of the crowned prince’s attention was focused on the fact that Kakarot had chosen to sit next to him even though there were other empty chairs available. He forced a cough to cover up his sudden tenseness and nodded at the servant to bring in the food.

All three Saiyan’s eyes lit up when they saw the feast brought in. The table was practically overflowing with the requested food and more. Vegeta remembered that he and Kakarot had missed lunch due to their spar and he was more focused on eating then trying to make conversation. Tarble on the other hand didn’t seem to have the same priority.

“Kakarot, is the malab to your liking?” He snickered at Vegeta.

“Everything tastes great!” Kakarot smiled, oblivious to the jibing, and continued to eat with gusto.

“And is my brother to your liking as well?”

This time Kakarot stopped chewing to stare with wide eyes at the youngest. There was a significant pause and Vegeta felt his chest grow tighter with each second. Why hadn’t Kakarot just said ‘no’ and moved on? Was he really considering the question or did he feel uncomfortable saying it because Tarble was in the room? There still was no answer and his head pounded.

“Kakarot called you nice earlier. Don’t make him rethink it.” Vegeta’s wasn’t able to take the harshness out of his words and he watched his brother shrink under them. This was what he had been afraid of: Tarble trying to play games with his relationship only to make things worse. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see Kakarot sitting tensely beside him. “Tarble, pass the sifa.” He tried to restore normalcy with the request.

Taking a small portion of the grilled meat, sifa being one of his least favorite foods, he wordlessly sat the plate next to Kakarot as a peace offering. He had made one step forward to at least being able to have a conversation with his mate without one of them running off and now he was two steps backward—Kakarot once again retreating into his shell of silence and avoidance.

“He’s incredibly strong. The best fighter I’ve ever faced.”

Vegeta quickly reached for his glass, nearly choking from the surprise of hearing his mate actually reply. He didn’t care that Kakarot was only interested in him as a sparring partner; the fact that his mate had even said something was practically a miracle in itself. It had probably just taken him that long to think of a polite way to say it.

“He said you were strong too. But that you leave your guard down a lot.” Tarble didn’t know when to quit apparently, but Kakarot laughed in response.

“Maybe so. He did get some good hits on me. It’s good to know what I can improve on though.” He smiled and Vegeta held his breath as if this moment would vanish from even the smallest disturbance. Kakarot no longer looked tense or distant. He was just smiling and eating once more.

Not wanting to give Tarble the chance to say something else potentially damaging, Vegeta fixed a heavy stare on his brother. Silently conveying the consequences of further unnecessary questions would be incredibly steep from the way he glared, he felt satisfied when Tarble gave a sheepish grin. They ate the rest of the dinner in silence but, just as in the hallway earlier, it didn’t have the usual strain to it. They were just eating together quietly.

Tarble was the first to excuse himself—hopefully to bother someone else for the rest of his time on planet. Vegeta didn’t want to be left at the table with his thoughts for the third time that day so he rose soon after.

“Goodnight, Kakarot. When I have time to spar again I’ll find you.”

“Thanks. I really enjoyed facing you.” He also stood up, taking Vegeta off guard.

“Agreed.” He nodded and stepped away from the table. “Until next time.”

The now familiar sound of Kakarot’s boots followed him to the door and he was again surprised at his mate’s behavior. His heart thumped with each step Kakarot took and he was thankful when they finally reached the hallway where they would be forced to part ways.

“Later, Vegeta!”

He turned his head to see Kakarot waving over his shoulder and Vegeta numbly held up his hand in response. This new side of his mate would take some getting used to, but it was much preferable to the constant sulking. Vegeta tried to remember if he had taken a blow to the head during their match, as the situation seemed too surreal. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he made his way back to his room. They were still far from the relationship he had envisioned, but he could be satisfied with a mate that was not antagonistic to him any longer. A wry smile crossed his lips at the thought that he had to describe his relationship with his mate as him being satisfied, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry about the long wait on this one, thank you to everyone who is still interested in this story!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick refresher on the story so far: King Vegeta holds a tournament in which the winner will become Prince Vegeta's mate. Kakarot manages to beat out Nappa in the final round and win. However, he thought he was winning a chance to be Vegeta's teammate instead of MATE. They fight a lot and things don't look good. Then Tarble shows up to be a little shit and makes everything worse. There was a split second where Kakarot seemed happy, but we'll see where that goes. (This is literally it. Nothing has happened in six chapters of this story. I'm so sorry.)

“It’s been a week. How long are you going to be mad at me?”

Vegeta looked over the celebration plans for the fourth time. He still hadn’t absorbed a single bit of information from them, but it was a good ploy for avoiding Tarble.

“If you don’t talk to me, you could at least try to talk to him.”

Vegeta glared harder at the words on the screen. Oh, sure. Just go talk to Kakarot. What a great idea. If only Kakarot hadn’t been avoiding him for the past week.

Tarble huffed louder than necessary. “All I said was—”

“That you couldn’t wait to see our children. Yes, I remember quite well.”

“Well, you’re mates, aren’t you?”

Vegeta tossed the datapad on the table and rubbed his forehead. As if it wasn’t bad enough Tarble had instantly crushed the friendly relationship with Kakarot, he’d also caused Kakarot to become reclusive again. He wanted to crush Tarble. Preferably into one of the three suns. Now Vegeta was back to having a mate who wanted nothing to do with him.

“You lack as much intelligence as you do power.”

“Vegeta!” His tail puffed out two sizes larger.

“The situation was tense enough and you antagonized Kakarot!”

“What is so bad about having babies?”

“Child.” Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood up. Tarble jumped up too and stuck out his chin in defiance, but Vegeta ignored the taunt and stomped into the hallway. He was done babysitting. There wasn’t much more damage Tarble could do. Kakarot could keep to himself, but he wouldn’t get far if he tried to flee.  A small consolation.

When Vegeta left his office he hadn’t put much thought to where he was going. But as he kept tromping through the hallways he realized he was headed towards the study where Kakarot was being taught. That was if Kakarot was still attending his classes. Vegeta had assumed his mate was—assumed he would have been informed if Kakarot hadn’t gone—but suddenly there was a cold twisting in his stomach. What if Kakarot didn’t go anymore? What if he intended to blunder his way through the ritual? Would Vegeta have to execute him on principle?

He chewed the inside of his lip and his tail tightened around his waist. He didn’t know of any law stating someone who messed up the ritual would be killed. But wouldn’t making a mockery of it be akin to making a mockery of the royal family? That surely couldn’t stand. Vegeta crossed his arms to stop the twitching of his fingertips. Perhaps he’d just check and confirm Kakarot was at his lessons.

It was a short walk to the room and Vegeta pressed against the door to listen. Even after straining for several seconds and holding his breath, he couldn’t hear any sound from the room. He stepped back and grabbed the handle. It wasn’t strange to check on his mate. Even if he had never really done so before. Maybe he just wanted his own refresher on the ritual. It sounded plausible so Vegeta pushed the door inward. The room was completely empty.

Vegeta felt like an Oozaru had just stepped on him. Where was Kakarot? Or even Cama? Since they were both gone, perhaps they had just gone somewhere else to study today. He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, deep breath. Opening his eyes again, he closed the door and spotted his servant.

“Tell me where Kakarot is.”

“Your Highness.” The servant bowed and muttered into his scouter. After a few seconds he stood back up and held out his arm in indication. “He is in his quarters, Prince Vegeta.”

Vegeta kept a neutral face even though his brain was flip-flopping in turmoil. Had Kakarot never even left? Did he now intend to hide in his room for the rest of his life? Was he sick? Had he not eaten enough and fallen faint?

Vegeta had to go. There was no way he would be able to focus on anything else until he solved this problem. Even though they weren’t on the best terms now, he had to know what Kakarot was doing.

Turning on his heel, Vegeta walked towards the guest wing. His footsteps echoed through the corridors as he struggled not to break into a run. Would Kakarot let him into the room? Even if he didn’t, Vegeta could just kick in the door. What if he yelled? What if he didn’t say anything? His tail clenched around his waist as he turned another corner.

“Prince Vegeta.”

The voice made his eye twitch. This was the last thing he needed at the moment. He kept his brisk pace, fully intent on walking straight past Nappa.

“A moment please, Your Highness.” Nappa stepped directly in his path and effectively blocked him.

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

Nappa bowed his head in salute. “I want to know if you will truly accept the third class as your mate. Surely you would prefer someone more suitable, such as true warrior.”

“In two weeks he will be a crowned prince of House Vegeta. I trust you will accept him as such.”

“And yet, my Prince, he stays in the guest wing instead of the royal chambers. It looks as though you do not wish him near you.” Even though his tone was respectful, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed. “He has kept private quarters in order to acclimate himself to his new lifestyle and remain focused on his studies.”

“He does not join you at meals to maintain his focus? Perhaps your grace makes his mind wander.”

“Kakarot adheres to his teacher’s schedule while I am busy with political duties. Conflicts in time are inevitable.”

“Of course, Prince. There must be a great many conflicts to keep you from spending any time with him of late. Or could it merely be you don’t want to spend time with him because a filthy third class is no match for a prince? Even if he managed to pull a trick to win, he should not be allowed to sully the royal castle with his presence.”

“I am on my way to see him right now and you are causing a conflict which saps our time together.”

“My apologies. I will take my leave. When you decide you would prefer a true Saiyan elite at your side, I am always at your service.” Nappa bowed again, walking off with sneer intact.

All Vegeta could see was red. He’d rather have a reclusive mate than the boot-licking Nappa. He clenched his fists tightly and heightened his pace. Now it was even more important to get through to Kakarot. How far had these rumors gone? To have it circulating the prince and his mate were not on speaking terms would throw doubt on his rule. If he could not keep one third class in line, how would he keep the whole planet under control?

When Kakarot’s door came into view, Vegeta didn’t bother to knock. He nearly broke the handle off as he swung it open. The sight inside sucked the wind of his lungs and the anger out of his mind. Kakarot stood naked in the middle of the room, staring wide-eyed at the sudden intrusion, surrounded by a flock of servants taking all sorts of measurements and holding different fabrics against him.

Vegeta wavered in the doorway. He wanted to leave but didn’t want to emphasize the distance between his mate and him more. He shouldn’t be embarrassed to see Kakarot naked, if anything he should be ordering everyone out to take his mate on sight. If only that was the reality between them. Perhaps he could turn this around to his advantage.

“Kakarot, I didn’t realize you would still be busy.” He ambled beside his mate and looked over the materials the tailors had brought.  His eyes cut back to Kakarot and he winked. “I was hoping to have a spar with you, but I can wait if I must.”

Stepping around the group, he sat on the edge of Kakarot’s bed. The servants glanced between him and Kakarot a few times and he waved a hand at them. “Continue your work.”

The tailors fumbled with their items and began their measuring and cutting once more. Only Kakarot was looking at him now. Silent, but searching for answers in Vegeta’s eyes. He’d gotten better at hiding his feelings. Vegeta smiled back and gave a short nod to him. It seemed to satisfy, or at least pacify, Kakarot for the moment and he turned his attention back to the servants fussing over him.

Vegeta let out a long mental sigh. He had not seen Kakarot for a week, only to storm in on him naked and was now just sitting on Kakarot’s bed watching him. It was sure to send a positive message to his mate. Vegeta held back the roll of his eyes.

This was fine. He would merely sit here for a few minutes and then excuse himself. If he told Kakarot to meet him in the training room, would Kakarot show up? Or perhaps he could say he was coming back later to meet Kakarot. Would he be refused then? Maybe he should just wait it out in order to confront Kakarot. This couldn’t take too long and Vegeta would usher the servants out. And block the door after they left. Kakarot couldn’t run from him then.

On the bright side, if Kakarot was getting fitted for his ceremonial robes then at least he was still planning on being in the ceremony. It lifted Vegeta’s mood and quieted some of the questions in his head. It didn’t guarantee Kakarot was happy about it, but he wasn’t fighting the tailors at least. He just stood there passively, turning and posing however the servants positioned him. Was it improper to stare at Kakarot? It would be damning to act as though he was repulsed by his mate.

Vegeta swallowed. He was far from repulsed, after all. Kakarot had a fine balance between being muscular versus bulky. His back was to Vegeta now, muscles flexing as Kakarot raised his arms or repositioned them. That body was a work of art from the gods themselves. Vegeta’s gaze lowered and he tried not to blush as he eyed the round ass before him. He should be able to reach out and grab it, press himself against it—penetrate it. He crossed his legs.

He was almost a foot shorter than Kakarot, but it wouldn’t matter when he had his mate doubled over beneath him. That creamy skin flushed and sweaty. The quiet Kakarot moaning and begging for him. Vegeta wondered if Kakarot made the same faces during sex as he did during fighting.

That’s what he had come here for. Not to ogle Kakarot, but to end the tension between them. Getting lost in fantasies would not help the situation. He pressed his eyes closed to clear his head and regain focus. Letting out a breath, he opened them again and allowed himself one last look. It was a fine ass after all, worthy of the prince. But with one swift movement it was gone. Kakarot had turned around and now Vegeta was still staring at the same spot.

Jerking his head away, Vegeta crossed his arms and stared at the wall. He hoped to the gods he wasn’t blushing. He peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Kakarot looking at him. Vegeta resumed glaring at the wall. Perhaps Kakarot hadn’t noticed. And perhaps him jumping and looking the other direction wasn’t obvious. The damn tailors had sabotaged them. They got to touch Kakarot’s body without a care and now had exposed his staring. He should have them executed for this.

“How much longer will this take?”

“We are nearly finished, Your Highness. Apologies for delaying your plans.”

Vegeta snorted. They should be apologizing for completely different reasons. But true to their word, a few minutes passed and they began to gather their tools and fabric. Vegeta looked up at the sound of their haste and was careful to avoid looking directly at Kakarot. The servants bowed and apologized again before leaving.

Now it was just him and Kakarot. A silence hung between them, Vegeta still reluctant to meet Kakarot’s eyes.

“Did you really want to spar?”

“I came because you have avoided me. We are to be mated in two weeks; I would like to know if there will be a problem.” He rose from the bed and made sure to only look at Kakarot’s face.

“I know what I have to do. Everything I have to do.” Kakarot’s voice came out flat and devoid of emotion.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the loaded statement, saving it to dissect later. “Then I want you to resume having meals with me.”

Kakarot’s gaze shifted to the corner of the room. “Is that all you want from me?”

“Say what you want to say, Kakarot.” All the doubletalk was grating on Vegeta’s already raw nerves.

Kakarot looked back at him for a moment then grimaced and stared at the floor. “You made it pretty obvious. All the talk about having a baby and the way you were staring at me.”

It was an automatic reaction to cover his reddened face, but then Vegeta clenched his fist and forced it back to his side. Now Kakarot’s previous statement was instantly made clear.

“Yes, we will have to produce an heir. You’ve known this since the beginning.”

“Should I roll over now and get it over with then?”

Their eyes met for a breath, anger flashing between them. How dare he. The next second, Kakarot was on the floor holding his cheek while Vegeta lowered his fist.

“I will not force myself on you, Kakarot. Do not belittle me in that regard. There are other methods to produce offspring and I have no interest in a reluctant partner.”

Kakarot remained silent, glowering at the floor.

“I’ll be in my training room if you want payback.” Vegeta passed his mate, scowling at the way things had escalated. Instead of negotiating a peace, he had further angered Kakarot. Tarble be damned, Vegeta would do a fine job of estranging Kakarot himself. He exited the room, resisting the urge to slam the door behind him and create more of a scene, and headed down the hall. His fingers twitched with the need to hit something. The need to convert this tense energy into destruction. Gods, he hoped Kakarot would show up.

xxxxx

Clothes splattered with blood and bits of flesh, Vegeta blasted the last Saibaman to pieces before doubling over in exhaustion. His hands rested on his knees and he drew deep breaths. He was unsure how many he had killed; the mixture of body parts strewn throughout the room didn’t give a clear count. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose and his heart battered against his chest. His body sung an anguished tune about the workout he had pushed himself through. This was the part where he was supposed to feel release from the stress hounding him. But this time it did not come. His mind was still clouded with thoughts of Kakarot: anger, desire, and rejection muddling into a turbulent cocktail.

Kakarot’s words had echoed in Vegeta’s head with each strike he threw. Was that truly how his mate saw him? As a despot waiting to abuse his trust and body the first chance Vegeta got? He ran his fingers through his matted hair and let out an extended sigh. The sting to his pride was worse than any physical ache. If only Kakarot hadn’t been so clueless about the meaning of the tournament. Then they wouldn’t be in this awkward mess.

In Vegeta’s eyes, Kakarot should have been grateful to be the chosen mate—elated Vegeta accepted him so readily. Instead Kakarot wanted nothing to do with him. And even that, Vegeta would accept. He was a man of honor. If Kakarot played his role then he was free to choose how their relationship played out.

His throat was parched and his stomach rumbled in protest. Vegeta’s workout had gotten him no peace of mind, but perhaps he would be able to fall into a dreamless sleep tonight from the physical exertion. He straightened his back and stretched his neck. Even the simplest of movements brought pain with them now. With a weary sigh, he headed out of the wreckage of the training room.

A servant appeared and Vegeta instructed for his meal to be delivered to his bedroom. Passing out was all he really wanted to do, but his body demanded food first. Starving himself would only lead to more pain in the morning. As soon as he reached his room, he headed to the shower. His clothes were gone in a flash and he smiled as the hot water began to soothe his body.

Letting himself just enjoy the heat and the relaxing steam, Vegeta let his body slump. Kinks in his muscles began to loosen and he actually started to unwind. A yawn escaped him and he worked quickly to clean himself. The end to this frustrating day couldn’t come soon enough. Finishing up, he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself when he heard the servant knock at the door. He barked out his order to enter and wrapped a silken robe around himself.

Vegeta stepped into the main room and frowned. Servants were rushing to set up a table for him and cover it with food. But behind them, standing quietly and looking away from the scene, was Kakarot. Vegeta recomposed his blank mask as he wondered what reason his mate had to be here. Perhaps he’d come to issue more insults. At this point, Vegeta couldn’t hope for any positive meaning behind Kakarot’s appearance.

Vegeta sat at the table and unfolded his napkin in his lap as he waited for the servants to disperse. When the last one left the room, Vegeta began to fill his plate.

“Yes, Kakarot?”

“You told me to join you for dinners again. When they started bringing everything here, I came too.”

Vegeta blinked in surprise at the answer. With everything else weighing on his mind, he had forgotten about that particular request. Nappa and the rumors had been totally eclipsed by the fact Kakarot had considered him to be a rapist. He took a deep breath so he could choose his words carefully.

“I did. But seeing as you declined my invitation to train, I didn’t think I would see you again tonight.” 

“I just needed to think. I’m here now.” He settled into the chair across from Vegeta and began to shyly make his plate. He put each item on his plate with a focused precision, eyes darting to meet Vegeta’s and then back to the table a few times.

Vegeta sat his fork down with a sigh. “If you want to be alone tonight then you are free to take your plate and leave. You can join me another day.” His food tasted bland today and he forced himself to keep eating.

Kakarot didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but began to eat. He didn’t pipe up again until his first plate was emptied. “You’ve got a cut.”

Vegeta looked up at him. He must have appeared confused because Kakarot motioned to a spot on his forehead before pointing at Vegeta’s. Touching the area, Vegeta felt the long scrape above his eyebrow. A Saibaman had managed to claw him while he was busy with three others. It was the last thing the creature ever did. He shrugged. It was hardly worthy of notice in his opinion. Gone in a few days at most.

“Saibaman.”

“Oh.”

Was this an attempt at conversation or had Kakarot just wanted to point out his injury as a shortcoming? Vegeta was too tired to bother with solving Kakarot’s inner workings, so he merely resumed eating. He heard a quiet exhale from the other side of the table.

“How many did you fight?”

Vegeta meet Kakarot’s eyes. They were innocent enough—no apparent malice or mockery in them. He supposed he could humor the question.

“I didn’t count. Just fought.”

“It must have been a lot. You were gone a long time.”

He really was too tired for this. Vegeta pushed his plate away from him and drooped his shoulders.

“I suppose. I’m going to retire for the night.” He inched his chair away from the table and paused. “Thank you for joining me. Good night, Kakarot.”

Kakarot hid his frown a second too late. “Okay. Good night.” He stood up and hesitated a second before heading to the door. He gave a limp wave before disappearing into the hallway.

Glad to be alone again, Vegeta crawled into bed. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was exhausted from dealing with Kakarot. Their mating ceremony couldn’t come fast enough. It’d be at least one stress off his mind to know no one could gossip about whether he would really take Kakarot as his mate or not.

XXXXX

Vegeta was restless the next day. He ate some of the fruit left over from the previous night and skipped a formal breakfast. He left the Council meeting early. He headed for his training room, but ended up roaming the hallways instead. Sitting still felt wrong, yet so did trying to focus on exercise. So he just walked. Familiar routes, seldom used areas of the castle, gardens, and perimeter. It didn’t do much to distract his mind from Kakarot’s odd behavior last night, but at least he could mindlessly expel his nervous energy.

He folded his arms over his chest as he passed the main courtyard for the second time. He wasn’t even sure why it had bothered him in the first place. Kakarot had done as asked and joined him for dinner. He’d probably be at dinner tonight too. Vegeta’s shoulders deflated. Because he had told Kakarot to be there. Not out of his own will to see Vegeta.

But then again—his eyes narrowed in concentration—he had offered for Kakarot to leave. And Kakarot had stayed.

Probably only because it would be too embarrassing to leave right away after following the servants there.

Vegeta shook his head. He was done with this. Tired of second-guessing himself. Exhausted from trying to understand Kakarot’s motives. And fed up with never being able to get a clear answer or explanation to anything from the man. Vegeta’s first inclination was to attack a problem with his fists, but he knew the ways of diplomacy as well. It seemed all attempts had failed though. After weeks together, he still could not get more than a few sentences out of Kakarot at a time.

So he would stop trying. Kakarot’s answer was clear. Vegeta was going to play by the very rules he had instructed Kakarot on. He’d play his part in public and go his separate way in private. That’s all there was to it. He wasn’t sure why he had invested so much time into doing otherwise. He felt a pang in his chest and drew his arms closer to his body. This was the way it was meant to be.

He grew weary of his directionless pacing. It was still early, but he decided to go have a proper meal after all. His feet felt heavy and his armor seemed to weigh him down. It was ridiculous to think missing breakfast had affected him this much. All the more reason to eat as soon as possible.

Vegeta sat at the grand table as the servants scurried off to prepare something for him. He didn’t feel better even though he had reached a decision. He didn’t feel glum either. It was more of just an emptiness—as if his emotions had been drained out of him by the long walk here. It wasn’t a concern in his opinion. Just a side-effect of the hunger.

The meal didn’t help. He could tell it had been cooked to his desires, but it failed to satisfy him. It tasted just as bland as the food last night. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. His fork moved with disinterest.

When the door to the dining room began to creak ajar, he was almost glad for the distraction. Until he realized there was a very high probability it was Kakarot on the other side of the door. It swung open and Vegeta’s prediction was confirmed. Kakarot’s eyes widened as he entered and Vegeta looked back to his plate with a mirthless smile on his face.

“Vegeta! We didn’t think you’d be here!” Tarble’s excited voice echoed in the large hall.

“Is there a problem?” What the fuck was Tarble doing here?

“No! It’s just you usually don’t join us for lunch!”

The smile fell from Vegeta’s face and he found it hard to suppress a snarl. The tip of his tail tapped against his leg in an agitated rhythm. He could taste the bile rise in his throat as Kakarot and Tarble joined him at the table.

“I take it you two usually share lunch.”

Tarble smiled. “Yeah. We happened to meet up one day and when I learned Kakarot has his breaks at this time, I started eating with him. I don’t really have anything else to do around the castle and it’s way better than eating alone.”

Vegeta’s jaw was stiff as he eyed his brother’s beaming face. He could see Kakarot glancing between the two of them.

“It sounds as if you two get along quite well.”

“I tell him about the planet I live on and he tells me about the missions he’s been on!” Tarble was practically bouncing in his chair.

Kakarot was fiddling with his napkin, rubbing the edging between his fingers.

“I help him with his studies sometimes too! And—”

The loud scraping of Vegeta’s chair over the marble floor cut the list of Tarble and Kakarot’s activities short.

“Excellent. Seeing how I’m done with my meal, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

“What? Don’t go now!” Table pouted.

“Vegeta….”

He ignored them and strode out of the dining hall. He’d heard all he needed to hear. So that was the reason. Tarble was only two years from maturity after all and closer to Kakarot’s age than Vegeta was. Perhaps that was what drew them together. Or maybe it was Tarble’s unending enthusiasm about love. Vegeta clenched his fists and ground his teeth. Fine. It was fine. Tarble would be leaving as soon as the ceremony was over. Then Kakarot could go on an extended mission to prove his honor to the Council. And when he returned from that mission, he’d go on another one.

Vegeta would never have to look at him again. They would get a sample of his DNA, do whatever they did in the labs, and Vegeta would have a successor. And Tarble would have Kakarot. Great. Wonderful. They deserved each other.

Tarble’s voice repeated in his head on a constant loop. Kakarot’s voice calling his name would chime in every once in a while. Asking him to be understanding? For his permission? Vegeta had already told Kakarot he was free to do as he pleased. He just hadn’t expected Tarble to be what pleased Kakarot.

He made his way to his office and stared dumbly at the computer screen. The emptiness thudded inside him as he tried to accomplish anything resembling work. But instead of seeing the words on the screen, he only saw the excitement on Tarble’s face. To be betrayed by his own brother. Tarble was finally beginning to act like a Saiyan.

Vegeta gave up on work as the coldness beat against his ribcage. He didn’t care what Kakarot did. He didn’t care who Kakarot wanted to be with. That was his resolve. So why was he so rattled by this? He pushed off his chair and went to lay on the seldom used couch instead. His fingers intertwined over his chest as he stared at the ceiling. There was an insect’s webbing clinging to the corner. He’d have to reprimand a servant later for doing such a poor cleaning job.

The light traveled across the walls as the hours passed in silence. Neither of the pair had come to speak with him or apologize. Not that there was really anything to discuss. He didn’t have any objections. Let them be happy. He was content with the situation. Everything was great.

A knock at the door brought his attention back to the present and he sat up and adjusted his armor before giving permission to enter.

“Will you be dining here tonight, Prince Vegeta? We have brought accommodations for you.”

Vegeta stared blankly at the timid woman for a moment before waving her in. He looked out the large window to see first sun dropping below the horizon. A whole day wasted. He chided himself for becoming so distracted over nothing. He’d just have to work late into the night to make up for it.

The clinking of dishes subsided and Vegeta turned to see what they had brought for him. His lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed.

“Hi.”

“Kakarot.”

Kakarot poked at one of the dishes. “This is your favorite, right?”

Vegeta snorted and sat at the table. Whose plan had this been for Kakarot to show up with his favorite food? Helping himself to the dish did little to lift his mood.

“Are we going to be having dinner in a different place each night?” He scratched the back of his head.

“I rescind my request. You can have dinner wherever you like. With whomever you like.”

“I’m here now.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes at the obvious. “I’m aware. But from tomorrow on, do as you please.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Vegeta nearly choked as his laughter threatened to interfere with his ability to swallow food. Since when had Kakarot ever cared about how Vegeta felt? Much less towards him? He couldn’t help but chuckle once he could breathe again.

“I’m not mad at all, Kakarot. After the mating ceremony, we can find plenty of missions for you to go on. You’ll only have to be on planet Vegeta when you wish to see your family.” The food was finally beginning to taste like something.

Kakarot chewed with a frown, pushed some vegetables across his plate, and thumbed the handle of his knife.

Vegeta could feel the dark eyes on him, probably trying to find some hidden meaning in his words. But there were none. It would be far easier than having to spend each day with Kakarot and pretend to be happy with their sham mating.

“Tarble will be glad for the company too.”

“Tarble? But he stays on the planetside. He doesn’t go on missions.”

“We can make up reports to cover whatever you do out there.” Vegeta waved his hand in dismissal.

Kakarot’s eyebrows sunk deeper into a frown as he took another bite.

The food was gone. Vegeta hadn’t even realized how hungry he had been. He stood up and rolled his neck until it cracked. Time to get to work. He moved to his desk and waited for the screen to flicker back to life before beginning to scroll through the list of files awaiting his attention. He gaze flickered to the table as Kakarot stood to leave.

“Will you ask the servants to clean up as you leave? I will be here for some time.”

Kakarot nodded and walked out of the door. Servants replaced his presence in the room as they cleared the table and began removing all evidence of dinner. Vegeta ignored their hushed noises and let his fingers dance across his keyboard. His mind felt clearer than it had in weeks as he signed off on one report after another. His whole body felt lighter actually. A smile graced his features as he let his work absorb his every thought. No longer caring about Kakarot made everything infinitely easier.

XXXXX

Vegeta’s days had passed easily since that long night: Kakarot still did join him for dinner and they made minimal casual conversation, Tarble stayed out of his way, and he enjoyed the emotionless void within himself. He hadn’t worried about feelings or trying. It was like life before Kakarot had been. Peaceful.

That’s how he felt when his servants bathed and dressed him, when he walked down to the grand ballroom, and when he stood at Kakarot’s side while all the guests cheered for them. King Vegeta opened the ceremony by issuing a succinct speech praising the future of planet Vegeta and the happiness in his heir choosing a mate. Matching cuffs, silver with a jeweled royal crest in the middle, were brought out and fastened near the end of their tails. The highest shaman chanted blessings upon their union and house while they sipped wine from the same goblet.

Vegeta’s stomach twisted as he knew what came next. He just had to remember it was all an act. And hope Kakarot didn’t fuck it up. He faced Kakarot and could see the nervousness in his eyes, but they had to make this look smooth and natural. Tugging his taller mate down to his level, he leaned in and stopped as their lips touched each other before whispering an order only Kakarot would hear.

“Don’t you dare pull away from me.” Then their mouths were together in the biggest mockery of Vegeta’s life. Kakarot shyly returned the kiss as their tails coiled by their side. Vegeta held a hand on the back of Kakarot’s head to make sure the idiot stayed in place.

He wanted it to be an act. Didn’t want to feel anything from it. But Kakarot’s lips were soft and warm and his tail felt full of electricity as Kakarot’s snaked around it. This is what he would miss out on for the rest of his life. This is what Tarble would have instead of him. The thought soured the experience and he carefully detached himself from Kakarot while the crowd clapped.

Vegeta glanced at Kakarot, trying to see any hint of guilt in those eyes for betraying him, but they just stared back at him. Like Kakarot was looking for his own answers in Vegeta’s eyes. There wasn’t time for soul searching now though. Vegeta held out an arm to escort him through the crowd so all the most elite of the planet could congratulate them on finally being mated. It was simple enough to act happy in front of the throng of people. He’d watch Kakarot out of the corner of his eye every so often to make sure Kakarot was acting just as well. But despite his misgivings, his mate was performing satisfactorily. Smiling at the right times, showing politeness, and staying at Vegeta’s side. A good act for the man who had come to the castle without a clue what he was doing there.

“Hm, well done, boy.”

Vegeta looked up at who had addressed them so casually to find himself staring at an almost identical copy of Kakarot. It was strange how different Raditz looked from their father.

“I didn’t expect much out of ya at birth. But it looks like you did good for yourself.” Bardock looked Vegeta up and down with a smirk. “Real good.”

Did everyone in this family want to fuck him except Kakarot? Vegeta fought the frown he wanted to give and instead held out a hand of greeting.

“A pleasure, sir. I’m honored to meet my mate’s sire.”

Bardock shook his hand with an unnecessary roughness. “Make sure to take care of our son, won’t ya?”

“Of course.” He didn’t think about how Tarble would be the one taking care of Kakarot.

“I know he’s been learning all about how to be proper, but he’ll need some education in the more delicate matters.” Bardock winked at him.

“Dad!” To his credit Kakarot hissed it as quietly as one could in the situation.

Vegeta didn’t think about how Tarble would be the one to teach him those things. If he hadn’t already. He merely nodded his head and stated there were other guests in need of his attention.

“Sorry.” Kakarot managed to whisper this time.

He wasn’t sure what Kakarot was apologizing for, so Vegeta just shrugged and continued leading them through the room. From one cluster of guests to the next, an endless sea of people bestowing their blessings swam before Vegeta’s eyes. It was draining to keep his façade in place with each introduction, but slowly the hours passed and dinner was served at last.

“You’ve performed well, Kakarot.” It was murmured more to his plate then his mate next to him.

“It’s been fun to see everyone so excited.”

“Even though you aren’t excited?”

“I am.”

Vegeta snorted and took a sip of wine before answering. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kakarot. Unless your excitement stems from being off world soon, perhaps?”

“So you take me as your mate and then get rid of me?”

It almost sounded like Kakarot was disappointed. Maybe he had grown too accustomed to palace living already to give it up for a life of sterile barracks with Tarble.

“You’ve given me no indication you want to stay here.” Vegeta’s eyes swept over the crowd to make sure no one was paying too much attention to them. It seemed the vast majority were more absorbed in their dinner thankfully. His gaze turned back to the silent Kakarot, who was staring at his plate while picking at his food.

“Don’t act glum. You said you were excited.”

“Yeah.”

This was annoying. If Kakarot continued to mope it would ruin their whole charade. “Kakarot, this is supposed to be a celebration. I’m going to kiss you and then you better pull yourself together.”

“Wha—”

Vegeta’s lips cut him off. He placed a hand on Kakarot’s arm to make sure it didn’t start flailing. His tongue teased at Kakarot’s lips—a calculated act of desire to quell any doubts the crowd may have had. He reminded himself there was nothing enjoyable about this. The way Kakarot’s mouth moved against his was merely politics. Vegeta broke the kiss and ran a thumb over Kakarot’s cheek as another false show of affection, not because he wanted to touch the blushed skin there.

He stood and clapped his hands once. “Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate our joyous mating. We have appreciated your presence on this day and would love to stay, but my mate grows tired so we will take our leave. Please continue to enjoy the festivities in our stead.”

That sounded good enough. He took Kakarot’s hand and led him out of the ballroom. Sure, his father would be upset they left the party early, but it was a minor concern compared to losing face over Kakarot’s lack of composure. 

Once they were far enough away from the crowded room, Vegeta pulled his hand away. “At least that’s over.”

Kakarot let out a prolonged sigh, but otherwise stayed quiet as they walked through the decorated hallways. He tried to part ways at the entrance to the guest wing, but Vegeta yanked him back.

“What are you doing, idiot? We’re supposed to be mates now!”

“But my room…?”

“Forget it. We will have your belongings moved to the royal wing. Tonight you’ll have to sleep in my room.” He rolled his eyes at Kakarot’s obvious hesitation and pulled his arm harder. “I already…forget it. Just come with me.” The anger bubbled in him, but he was determined to keep it to himself even if his grip on Kakarot’s arm became tighter.

Vegeta drug Kakarot to his room before releasing him—feeling a little guilty about the way Kakarot rubbed his wrist afterwards. Looking away, he went to his closet and searched for clothing. There wasn’t anything Kakarot would fit into besides battle suits seeing as all his clothing was tailored. Though he had to wonder what Kakarot normally slept in. The servants must have given him something to wear, but asking them to bring something now would seem odd. Weren’t they supposed to be in here having wild sex? Clothes were a hindrance in that sort of situation. He pulled out what would be a full-length robe on him and tossed it to Kakarot.

“You can sleep in this if you want. It’s that or armor.” He began to strip out of his formal attire and pulled on a pair of black satin pants. “Or sleep in your clothes, if you really want to.” He shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom. It was much earlier than he would normally sleep, but there weren’t many other options open which wouldn’t give away their secret and he didn’t want to talk to Kakarot longer than necessary.

He went through his nightly routine slowly, just to kill time more than anything else. When he couldn’t drag out brushing his teeth any longer, he finished up and returned to the bedroom. Kakarot was still there, thankfully, sitting on the bed with hands clasped in his lap.

“You’re free to make use of the bathroom and anything else you need.”

“Ah, thanks.” He took the robe and disappeared into the bathroom.

Vegeta settled under the covers and sighed. Their first night in the same bed should have been memorable for reasons besides being awkward and uncomfortable.  It should have been a lot of things, but Vegeta was passed all that. He wasn’t going to think about their kiss, that they were mates, or that Kakarot wanted a different prince in the bed. He swallowed the lump in his throat and reminded himself he didn’t care about Kakarot anymore.

The bathroom door squeaked open, drawing him out of his thoughts. Kakarot was wearing his robe after all. But Vegeta wasn’t going to think about how good it looked on him. He motioned to the other side of his king sized bed and Kakarot moved to his designated spot with a small nod. He flipped off the switch for the lights and stared at where the ceiling would be if it wasn’t pitch black.

“Good night, Kakarot.”

“Good night.”

There was a faint rustling of fabric and Kakarot’s soft breathing. “Vegeta?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for saying that thing. You know…about what you wanted from me?”

Vegeta breathed out a hard puff of air. “Are you sure you want to thank me before the night is over? I might decide to take advantage of you in your sleep.”

Kakarot stayed silent a moment. “I don’t think you will.”

Vegeta grunted and closed his eyes, trying to force himself asleep before Kakarot could say anything else stupid.

“And I want to stay here. On planet Vegeta.”

It was nice of Kakarot to specify the planet rather than this bed. Otherwise, Vegeta might have mistakenly thought it was some moment of affection between them.

“Do what you want. Good night.”

“Night.”

XXXXX

Vegeta awoke in a sweat. His head was groggy and the room was still bathed in darkness. Why was it so hot? Had something in the cooling system broken? As his head cleared, he became aware the source of extreme heat was at his side. It took him a few more moments to remember Kakarot had been sharing the bed with him and that was the reason there was a body curled up beside him. He rubbed his bleary eyes and looked at his mate.

Kakarot was sleeping soundly it seemed, whole body pressed against Vegeta’s side. His face looked soft and serene. Not emotionless or confused, as he normally appeared. Did Tarble always get to see this side of him? Vegeta thought back to the one time he had seen Kakarot smile freely for him after coming to the castle. It was so long ago, but Vegeta had felt warm when he saw it. If his body wasn’t already overheated from the company, he would have felt himself flush. Kakarot was beautiful sleeping next to him with nothing by Vegeta’s robe on. The front was open just enough for Vegeta to see a bare collar bone and—that’s why Kakarot was next to him. Kakarot was just in the robe and had probably gotten cold.

Vegeta looked around. Somehow half of the blankets were strewn onto the floor and the other half were on him. It wasn’t a romantic inclination that had brought Kakarot to his side of the bed, just a search for warmth. Vegeta drug the blankets back onto the bed and spread them over Kakarot. He wondered if Kakarot would stay, but after a few minutes Kakarot rolled away from him.

On one hand it had felt almost nice to have Kakarot beside him. Like he was wanted after all. On the other it had been akin to sleeping next to a kiln. So it was probably for the best Kakarot moved away. Vegeta readjusted the blankets on him so he could cool off, but his hand lingered on the spot Kakarot had been.

He didn’t feel anything, he reminded himself again. This was all an act. None of it mattered. But the dullness in his chest began to throb and choke. Even after weeks of denial, he still wanted it to be real. He could see Kakarot’s chest rise and fall, his lips barely parted as he slumbered. The lips that had kissed him softly. The dullness felt like an inferno in him now. Vegeta tossed onto his side away from Kakarot and closed his eyes.

Tarble was too young to know what a real relationship entailed. Too soft to challenge Kakarot. Too weak to realize how strong Kakarot really was. Tarble didn’t deserve to see Kakarot unguarded, at his weakest. Didn’t deserve to kiss those lips and touch that sculpted body. 

Vegeta had fought Tarble for the throne. He was certainly going to fight Tarble for his mate.

 

 


End file.
